


Trials of a Sith

by yukimoda



Series: Trials of a Sith [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Angst, Child Neglect, Child Soldiers, Children and Pre-teens doing violent acts, Dark, Death, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Injury, Serious Injuries, Violence, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-29
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-13 03:32:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukimoda/pseuds/yukimoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rathe Dresal has finally reached the age to begin his force training. Brought to the desolate desert world of Dromund Fels he has two options: adapt or die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This story is based off of The Old Republic but it will not be following the stories of The Old Republic, specifically the Sith Warrior and Sith Inquisitor storylines. As there isn’t much about what its like as a youth in Sith society during The Old Republic, that I was able to find, I shall be taking a few liberties with the early training of Sith children as I believe it was similar to how Spartans were trained; under harsh conditions with the children pitted against each other so the weak were weeded out. At least for the Sith Warriors anyway.
> 
> Huge thanks to my betas for looking over my work for me :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follows the trials and tribulations of the Sith Rathe Dresal. Son of a revered Sith captain, Rathe must prove himself worthy of his father's name, but with danger and enemies everywhere can Rathe even survive to adulthood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This story is based off of The Old Republic but it will not be following the stories of The Old Republic, specifically the Sith Warrior and Sith Inquisitor storylines. As there isn’t much about what its like as a youth in Sith society during The Old Republic, that I was able to find, I shall be taking a few liberties with the early training of Sith children as I believe it was similar to how Spartans were trained; under harsh conditions with the children pitted against each other so the weak were weeded out. At least for the Sith Warriors anyway.
> 
> Huge thanks to my betas for looking over my work for me :D

Yellow eyes narrowed as a small red hand came up in an attempt to protect them from the sun. The owner of said eyes looked about at the mountains of sand and dried earth, stretching as far as the eye could see. Only the assortment of stone buildings he walked towards made up any kind of settlement. Perhaps there was another settlement somewhere in the dry wasteland. But unless it was beyond the mountains in the distance, he could see none in the area surrounding them. The boy wrinkled his nose, wiping the sweat from his forehead, as he took in his surroundings. This was Dromund Fels? The place his father said separated the weak from the strong? This was where he would be staying for the next five years? There had to have been some kind of mistake. He rubbed ridges along the bridge of his nose in contemplation as he questioned if he had been on the correct ship.

 

Ahead, a group of forty children milled about the landing pad, waiting to be told where to go. Amongst them, only five aside from him were Pureblooded Sith. All the others were Zabrak, Human, Twi’lek, Rattataki, and there was even a Chiss. The red skinned boy found himself examining the blue skinned boy for a bit longer than the others. He’d never been this close to a Chiss before, having only seen pictures of them on his datapad at the Kaas Institute and caught the occasional glimpses of one while walking around Dromund Kaas. From what he had read, the Pureblood boy gathered that they were a good ally to have.

 

His curiosity grew as he examined the other boy. Not only was he the tallest of the group, but he seemed to be the oldest of them as well. Why had the other boy only just now come to Dromund Fels? Judging by his stature, the Chiss boy should have arrived at years prior as he appeared to be at least eleven years old, three years older than Rathe himself. And yet, there he was standing amongst the children who had just arrived. Well, standing amongst wasn’t the correct term to use, as the blue-skinned boy was standing on the edge of the group, examining everyone, much like his red-skinned counterpart.

 

“Keep moving!” A voice behind him barked and a large hand connected with his back, knocking him out of his reverie.

 

The boy barely managed to keep from falling on his face as he found himself being roughly pushed forward. Catching himself, the Pureblood boy turned and glared at the large pale man behind him.

 

“How dare you! Do you know who my father is?” The boy demanded his eyes flashing with anger and indignation over being pushed. His rage increased when the large man began laughing, his rotund belly quivering with each guffaw that emerged from between the man’s plump lips.

 

“Oh aye, I know who he is, Commander Amevar Dresal, Captain of the Dreadnought, Enforcer, and one of the ‘heroes’ of the battle of Bothawai.” The heavyset man replied as he got his laughter under control, a sadistic grin beginning to bloom under his thin mustache. “And I know who you are. You're his brat, Rathe.” The smile got wider. “It will be interesting to see if you’re as much of a failure as your brother was.”

 

The story of Joltur Dresal was one that had been repeated over and over again the past year. As the eldest son of a high ranking officer, and an incredibly gifted boy, Joltur had been expected to achieve great success. Unfortunately for the Dresal family, Joltur had died six months prior, barely halfway through his first year of training. His brother had not been the only one to perish, by the end of the year twelve students had died, but he had been the only one of importance. Now, Rathe found himself under a great deal of pressure to succeed where his brother had failed.

 

Though he would not admit it to anyone, and barely even admitted it himself, Rathe had doubts about whether he could succeed. He had heard many whispered, and some not so whispered, conversations between his parents and family friends about his abilities and knew he was a bit less prepared for Dromund Fels than his brother had been. Like all Imperial children he had spent years four through seven in an institute where he had been taught various basic skills; how to read, write, basic math, etc. Exactly one year before, he had his final day at the Kaas Institute, the day his father began preparing him. The only problem was that Rathe knew his brother had spent more than a year being prepared for Dromund Fels, and if Joltur could not succeed with a few years of training what hope did Rathe himself have?

 

Blinking, Rathe drew himself from his thoughts. Shooting a glare at the fat human Rathe made his way down the rest of the ramp, joining the other children. Though the children were all different species, sexes, and sometimes ages---each of them had one thing in common: they had all displayed interest or talent in wielding a blade and learning to fight. Despite this knowledge, Rathe curled his lip in disgust as he got a closer look at the other children. Some were obviously runts while others showed signs of being less than ideal candidates for becoming Warriors in service to the Emperor. These students, mainly humans, sported cybernetic implants to either correct an injury or a possible birth defect. They wouldn’t last long here.

 

“You look like you smell something foul.”

 

Rathe jumped slightly at the unexpected voice next to him, and felt a flash of embarrassment as he looked up at Chiss boy he had been examining earlier. In his mind he could hear his father’s voice scolding him for not being more aware of his surroundings. It was one thing to observe the weaknesses in others, it was another thing to become so wrapped up you lose track of your surroundings. Despite his embarrassment, Rathe found his interest in the Chiss boy increase, how could one so large move around so silently?

 

“Smell? No, but I see a few things that offend my eyes.” He commented idly.

 

“Would those offenses happen to be people like me?” The Chiss boy asked, his words almost drowned out by the sound and wind produced by the shuttle they had arrived in taking off.

 

“Those of us who are not pureblooded Sith like you.”

 

The Sith boy shook his head. “Not entirely no, while I would prefer for there to be more purebloods like me, I know the Imperial forces are made up of more than just my kind.” Rathe looked away from his conversation partner and focused upon one of the humans with cybernetic implants, this one having a cybernetic eye. “I was offended by the sight of humans with obvious weaknesses such as hers. If one already has an implant then either they caused themselves enough of an injury to need one or they were born with a defect that caused them to be unable to use one eye.” He returned his attention to the boy standing next to him. “I realize that the implant will probably give her a slight advantage as she’ll be able to see in the dark with it and analyze others. But it also gives the rest of us an immediate target to go for.”

 

The Chiss boy fell silent and simply looked at Rathe for a few moments as he thought over the Sith’s words. As the moments passed, Rathe began to feel a bit uncomfortable under the gaze of the other boy’s solid red eyes. “I suppose you are right.” The blue-skinned boy finally said. “But remember sometimes even those who appear weak survive while those who appear strong die.”

 

Rathe blinked in confusion at the other boy’s words but before he could ask for clarification, the fat instructor from before began ordering them into a nearby building. Upon entering the building, Rathe immediately wished he was back outside. Outside the temperature had been extremely high, but at least it had been a dry heat. In here the air was stale, stagnant, and humid. Within minutes of being inside the building, Rathe could feel his clothes becoming damp as beads of sweat rolled down his face and the back of his neck.

 

As he wiped the sweat from his brow, Rathe warily eyes the marked off area in the center of the room and the large group of older children already standing around the edge of the marked off area. Each and every single one had their eyes trained upon the students who had just arrived. As he drew closer to the older children, the Sith boy noticed that there was something a bit...off about them. They all appeared to have a certain rough edge to them, despite their crisp outfits. At first, Rathe thought this was because he of their rough, dry, skin, or their hair was long enough to at least touch their chins. But then he began to realize that, despite having the appearance of being clean, they all reminded him of manual laborers he had seen coming back from the forests of Dromund Kaas who always seemed to look dirty no matter what they did. It certainly did not help that he could see dirt under the fingernails of the students closest to him.

The moment the last student had come to a stop around the rectangle, the fat instructor, as well as a purple skinned Twi’lek woman with black tattoos and scars covering her lekkus and a slim man of average height, with red hair and a scar that bisected a milky white eye moved into the center of the marked off area.

 

“Welcome to Dromund Fels.” The Twi’lek woman began, the amusement in her voice making Rathe shiver. She sounded jovial, but the dark look in her eye told him she was not all that friendly. “You may refer to me as Instructor Akiva. To my left is Instructor Trevin,” she indicated the skinnier of the two humans standing with her. “And to my left in Instructor Uthyn.” She gestured towards the largest of the three instructors. “Now, that you are all here, we will begin your training. Immediately.”

 

The shock coming from the newly arrived students, including Rathe was nearly palpable. Clearly, none had suspected they would start being trained the moment they set foot off the transport that had brought them here. At the very least, Rathe had thought training would begin in the morning.

Instructor Trevin took a step forward and began speaking. “Some of you might have received training from your parents and some of your parents might have told you what training here would be like, but I assure you, none of you will _truly_ understand what the training here is like until you’ve seen it firsthand.” He turned and gestured for his overweight associate to take over

 

“When I call your name move to the center of the fighting area and take your weapon.” Rathe’s eyes narrowed as the Uthyn’s beady eyes landed upon him. Whatever the fat man was planning he was ready for it.

 

“Kasal Traael.”

 

A dark skinned boy stepped forward from amongst the group of older students and took the practice blade offered to him, moving to the center of the marked off area.

 

“Rathe Dresal.”

 

Rathe kept his face blank, ignoring the raised eyebrows and whispers of confusion from the older students, as he stepped forward and took the practice blade held out to him. Once he reached the center of the fighting area, the red-skinned boy took a moment to examine the older boy. From being surrounded by so many humans on Dromund Kaas, Rathe knew the blond hair and green eyes combined with his dark skin was an incredibly unusual combination. His observations came to an abrupt halt when Rathe realized the other boy was smirking at him, his green eyes filled with nothing but pure arrogance as he gazed back at the Pureblood. Rathe’s nostrils flared in anger as he realized the other boy was expecting an easy win. He would show the Kasal just how wrong he was when he wiped the smirk off his face.

 

“FIGHT!” The fat human bellowed.

 

Both boys raced forward with their practice blades held aloft. They met each other with a crash, their blades locked together. Immediately Rathe realized he was at a disadvantage as the human was taller and bigger than him. The added strength, plus the natural pull of gravity, forced the red-skinned boy to hold his blade at an awkward upward angle just to hold the other boy’s blade at bay. He growled faintly jumping backwards and dodging to the side when the human lunged at him.

 

“Running away?” The human taunted.

 

Rathe scowled, his irritation with the other boy growing as the two boys circled each other. He charged the bigger boy, ducking under a blow to strike at the boy’s leg. Unfortunately, despite the blow striking its target, it did not knock Kasal off his feet and instead earned Rathe a punch to the face. The impact sent pain racing throughout his entire skull causing him to fall back, clutching at his nose. Rathe was so thrown off by the pain radiating from his nose, he unconsciously dropped his guard and did not notice the dark-skinned boy’s attack until Kasal’s boot was embedded in his stomach. As the wind was driven from his lungs Rathe could hear his father’s voice in his head scolding him for dropping his guard. Fighting his immediate instinct to clutch at his ribs, the red-skinned boy grabbed Kasal’s boot before it withdrew too far with his free hand. He successfully ducked out of the way of the kick that immediately came his way, and sloppily struck out with his practice blade, catching the back of Kasal’s thigh as he lost grip of his foot. The successful strike did nothing in the way of damage and Rathe found the boot he had been holding in his face once more, this time though it was because of another kick aimed his way. Blood burst forth from his obviously broken nose as the foot connected, sending Rathe sprawling backwards onto the floor. Having learned from his earlier mistake, Rathe kept his guard up, doing his best to block and dodge the attacks that came his way. The blood flowing from his nose left trails along the floor each time he rolled out of the way of an attack. Eventually he managed to get back onto his feet, but not before a number of blows connected with his knees and ribs, causing Rathe to move at a slower pace and a twinge of pain to race through him every time he moved his arms.

 

“Alright, enough fooling around.” Kasal said as he changed his stance, becoming more serious.

Rathe barely had time to bring his practice blade up when the human charged at him and unleashed a flurry of blows that were faster and harder than any of his previous attacks. The red-skinned boy tried to defend himself, but found soon found himself unarmed as Kasal’s flurry of attack sent the blade flying out of his hand. Seeing his opponent unarmed, Kasal’s attacks gained an edge of sadism, somehow becoming more accurate and striking the areas that did the most damage. A particular kick to the knee caused it to buckle and Rathe found himself lying on the ground once more. A vicious blow to the ribs, forced Rathe onto his back where a boot was placed upon his throat, quickly cutting off his supply of oxygen. He fought and tried to pull Kasal’s boot off his throat, but he was weakened enough by his injuries and blood loss that he could barely move the heavy boot an inch.

 

“You’re pathetic.” The human spat as Rathe began lightheaded and spots appeared in his vision. Like a cat growing bored with its prey, Kasal removed his boot and walked to the edge of the ring.

 

“Well, done Kasal!” The fat instructor praised, applauding as he moved towards the victorious boy. “For your reward, you will receive a single ration bar. That is how things work here, you win, you receive a ration bar, you lose and you receive nothing!”

 

Rathe was too focused on getting to his feet and regaining his breath that he did not notice Uthyn trail off. At least not until he was roughly pulled to his feet and shoved out of the ring. The force of the push was great enough that he almost lost his balance. Only due to the Chiss boy from earlier helping him, was Rathe able to avoid falling to the ground face first.

 

“Now, let us see what the rest of you are capable of.” The large instructor continued with a dark laugh.

 

Rathe grunted as he pushed away from the blue skinned boy. His pride was smarting too much to accept help from anyone. On shaky legs, he made his way to the wall, and sat down against it. His eyes became unfocused as the Twi'lek instructor called out the names of the next fighters. His vision blurred as the fight began and the world faded away into darkness.


	2. Welcome Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sith are shown their living quarters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still don’t own anything Star Wars so you can’t blame me for the re-release of Star Wars Episode 1 in 3-d.
> 
> Once again huge thanks to my betas :D

Intense pain shooting through Rathe’s body as a large boot connected with his ribs forcing the air from his lungs and Rathe to rejoin the land of the conscious.

“I see the sleeping beauty is awake.”

Had he been able to breath properly and not nearly immobilized from the pain shooting though him, Rathe would have glared at the large instructor standing over him. Instead, he had to make do with gasping for air as he warily watched Uthyn, as the large human appeared to contemplate kicking him again. An eternity seemed to pass for Rathe as he lay on the ground, muscles tensed in preparation for another blow to be sent his way, before Uthyn took a step back.

“All those who won their fight form a line next to Akiva, she will distribute the rations you earned.”

Rathe only half paid attention to what was being said as he struggled to get up onto his feet, his mouth coated with the metallic taste of blood. He was halfway onto his feet when the large human turned back to him, causing Rathe to freeze in his tracks.

“As for those of you who _lost_.” He gave Rathe a dark grin. “Line up beside Trevin, he will show you to your sleeping quarters.”

As he finally got to his feet, Rathe noticed that the only students who had not already formed a line, were the children he had arrived with. Evidently, the older students knew and had expected to be instructed to line up as a large number had already created a line next to the Twi’lek woman. The other line, however, was only now being created as most of the occupants of Trevin’s line were new arrivals like himself. Seeing so many from his year in the line meant for losers soothed Rathe’s wounded pride a little, though the balm lost its effect when he spied of the girl with the cybernetic eye standing in Instructor Akiva’s line.

A light shove brought Rathe out of his reverie, and he turned with a glare towards the person who’d shoved him. The glare faltered a bit when he saw the Chiss boy from earlier.

“You lost, too?” He asked in surprise as he took in the other boy’s appearance. The other boy’s natural blue skin helped hide some of the damage, but the dark purple bruising about one of his red eyes and the corner of his mouth, along with the red blood flowing from his nose and split lip, made it obvious he’d received quite the beating.

“Aye, though not as badly as you.” Rathe’s skin darkened slightly in embarrassment at the calmly stated words. He knew even without being conscious for the other fights that none of the other students, not even the other first years, had passed out from pain and blood loss. “Still, you did fairly well considering it was your first fight.”

“I still lost.” Rathe hissed, his eyes narrowing in anger.

“Did you really think you would win?” The blue-skinned boy continued on, ignoring Rathe’s look of anger. “You just arrived here; he’s been here for at least a year and experienced multiple fights like these ever since his arrival. Again, did you really expect to beat him?”

“No,” Rathe finally said after a moment. “Though, I had hoped to do much better than I did.” It was hard for him to tell with the Chiss having solid red eyes, but Rathe could have sworn the other boy rolled his eyes at him. “So, who did you lose to?”

“That Sith boy there, Mathieu Chi'thiac.” Rathe’s eyes followed at the blue skinned boy pointed towards an orange-skinned Sith boy who amicably chatted with Kasal and two other humans, a boy and a girl.

“Those two who are with them are Calle Kurn and Talia Aryss. From what I can tell those four are the strongest of everyone here. Or rather they were the four who beat their opponents the quickest.”

“Either that or Calle and Talia just had a really easy fights.” Rathe murmured as he made a mental note to watch their matches next time to see if they really were as good as his potential ally thought they were.

“Come on; let’s go line up with the others.” The blue skinned boy began to turn towards the line of the defeated, but stopped when a hand touched his arm. At his raised eyebrow, Rathe withdrew his hand from the other boy’s arm.

“I’m Rathe Dresal.” He said as he held his hand out between them.

The Chiss boy eyed the red hand for a moment before taking the hand in his own. “Jehis’ari’lhane,” He chuckled faintly as the two shook hands. “You just can call me Saril.”

“Dresal! Jehi! Get over here!” Instructor Trevin shouted from the doorway as their hands dropped. The two boys hurried over to the red headed man, who immediately began leading the line of injured boys and girls out of the building.

As they stepped outside, Rathe was torn between feeling relief for no longer being inside the humid, sweltering building, and wondering how long the fights had taken as the sun was mostly set. The relief instantly faded as he caught sight of the extremely run down building the instructor was leading them too. This building, just like the building with the arena in the center, was made of stone. But unlike the other building, this one had numerous holes and cracks in the walls and a single door made of wood that looked so dried out and old it was surprising it didn’t crumble under Trevin’s fingers.

Upon entering the building, Rathe noted that the holes and cracks continued onto the ceiling, allowing the light from the setting sun shine inside the building. In fact, there were so many holes and cracks in the walls that Rathe was shocked the ceiling was able to be held up. The building itself was made up of a single long narrow hallway, with long rows of doors on either side of the hallway spaced a few feet apart from each other.

_This was where we’re living?_ ’' Rathe thought to himself, doing little to hide the look of disbelief that crossed his features.

“We’re living here?” A Pureblood girl in the middle of the line said, echoing Rathe’s thoughts as the few older students amongst their group began moving to presumably their rooms.

The redheaded instructor came to a sudden stop, and turned around, walking back to the child who had spoken. The girl gulped visibly as silence fell over the group and began fidgeting as he simply stood there, saying nothing.

“Yes, THIS is where you will be staying. Right here.” He said finally as the other children began to uncomfortably shift from foot to foot. “This building right here is where all of you will be staying so long as you’re at this facility. Just like every past generation, including some of your parents did. Just like future generations of Sith, will continue to train here. Your children may in fact train here.”

He gave her a slight smile that sent a shiver down Rathe’s spine. He was glad he wasn’t receiving the full force of that smile. “That is, of course if you survive long enough to have children. Not everyone who comes here leaves here alive,” Trevin’s eyes scanned the line of children in front of him, before stopping on Rathe. The smile widened slightly. While the fat instructor obviously hated him, this man made him feel like he was locking eyes with a Sleen; a Sleen that was staring down at it’s next meal. “As I’m sure some of you know all too well.”

The Sith boy’s eyes narrowed as he glared the one eyed man. Amusement briefly appeared on the red headed man’s face before he looked away. Though he was loathe to admit it, Rathe was felt relieved when the blue and milky white eyes turned away from him.

“Now, before any of you think about complaining to your parents about the ‘horrid’ conditions you’ll be living in, I should inform you that only the instructors have access to any communication systems at this facility. Also, let me remind you that your parents already know what it’s like here and will not lift a finger to help you off this planet. The only ways you’ll be leaving Dromund Fels is either in a body bag as a disgrace to your family or by boarding the transport in four years, proving that you have what it takes to survive.”

As the redhead finished speaking, the door to the compound opened and Instructor Akiva entered, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the children and Trevin standing in the middle of the hallway. “Get side tracked?” She asked as the small hallway began filling with the victors.

“I was just explaining to the new students what they should expect while here Akiva.” The man gave her a smile that was almost friendly in comparison to the one Rathe had received. “Perhaps you’d like to explain to them their living arrangements to them?”

The purple Twi’lek woman nodded faintly as she turned to look at them, ignoring the way the victors were silently taunting the losers with their rations while the losers glared sullenly at the ones who’d beat them. Rathe himself glared at Kasal while the smirking human walked past, eating a piece of the dried bar.

“All of you will be staying here for the duration of your stay, and all of you shall be staying in your own individual rooms.” She gestured further down the hallway as the last of the older students closed the doors to their rooms. “All of you are expected to stay in your rooms from the time the sun goes down in the evening until when the sun rises in the morning. If any of you are caught outside your rooms when you’re not supposed to be, you will be punished. And if you run away, thinking you’ll somehow find another settlement or transport, you will not be looked for. Get lost, you will not be looked for. And if you return you will be punished for trying to run away.  Understood?” The children nodded emphatically when she looked at the expectantly. “Good.” She began walking further down the hallway when a tentative hand rose.

“E-excuse me I-Instructor.” A very nervous looking Twi’lek who paused for a moment to glare at the human and Zabrak giving him faintly encouraging looks next to him. “W-when will we eat?”

“You, obviously were not paying attention to Instructor Uthyn or are too stupid to figure out what his words meant.” Trevin chided. “You will only receive food rations after you win a match against an opponent. You will however receive a small amount of water twice a day. There will be no other times we will give you food, so you had better hope those of you who lost, win a match once in awhile or else you won’t eat.” He gave them another slight smile that made Rathe shiver. “Right then, when we call your name and point to a room that will be your room.”

The children silently watched the teachers as they moved down the hallway, knocking on doors. If there was no reply from inside, they called out a name. If there was a reply from inside, they would move on. Rathe began to grow nervous as the two instructors moved further and further down the hall without calling his name. Finally, when they were more than halfway down the hall Rathe heard his name called. As he approached the door to his room, a door along his path opened, revealing Kasal. Yellow and green eyes locked as Rathe passed the human boy, only breaking when Rathe had walked far enough on that he would have to walk backwards to keep an eye on the dark-skinned human. The Pureblood boy would admit, if only to himself, that having his room so far down the hall made him a bit nervous as whenever he left the dorm he would need to pass Kasal’s room. His nervousness faded when Saril’s name was called four doors down from his own. Now, if anything happened, all he would need to do would be to yell, and Saril could come help him, or vice versa.

‘There has to be some kind of mistake.’ He thought as he entered his room and took in his surroundings. The only thing inside the room was a thin mat on the floor and a threadbare old blanket that had hole in it. Surely there was supposed to be a bed in here? Or at least a cot attached to the wall he could sleep on? His father had made an offhanded comment, before Rathe had left home, that he would have to get used to sleeping without a mattress, so he had anticipated sleeping on a hard surface. But he had not been expecting to sleep on the solid ground.

Dazed, Rathe slowly entered his room, allowing the door to close behind him. The room was long enough for him to lay on the ground and still have about a foot of room above his head and below his feet. Widthwise, it was small enough that with his feet touching one wall, he would only be able to lay flat if his head were chopped off. Rathe was struck by how the walls he shared with the children sleeping on either side of him, were nearly solid, while the wall opposite his door was filled with cracked brick and mortar but still quite solid. His ceiling on the other hand, seemed to have twice as many holes as the ceiling out in the hall did. Scattered across his floor were bits of mortar and stone, that had obviously fallen down at some point. Though based on the number of holes, there should have been far more debris covering his room. Someone, either the previous occupant or the instructors, had cleared the room of some of the debris at some point. The only thing in his room that appeared truly solid, was his door, which appeared to be as dry and breakable as the door to the dormitory itself.

Still, unable to fully process that this would be his home for the next four years, Rathe moved over to the far wall, peering through one of the holes created by missing mortar. In the remaining bit of sunlight, he could see the large open area he had stood in speaking with Saril after they had arrived. Halfway across, he could also see Instructors Akiva and Trevin making their way towards the well maintained building on the other side which he assumed was where all of the instructors stayed.

Stepping away from the wall, Rathe sat down on the thin mattress in the center of the room. A scowl of annoyance appeared on his face as he realized the mattress might as well not even been there as it felt like his was seated on the stone anyway. With a burst of anger, he stood and threw the inch tall ‘mattress’ at his door. The thin bit of fabric that made up his blanket soon joined the mattress crumpled up against his door and the red-skinned boy threw that as well. Having run out of things to throw, Rathe stood in the center of his room, chest heaving as he breathed heavily in anger.

Throwing himself into the corner of his room, the Pureblood boy sat with his knees drawn up and his arms crossed on top of them. He could not believe he had been sent to this horrible place. His father had spoken so highly of it that Rathe could not wait to arrive. Granted, his father had mainly spoken of it to Joltur, before his older brother had left home the year prior. Only then had his father spoken of it to Rathe himself and in the most offhanded way possible. A shiver ran down his spine as the boy began to wonder if his father had purposefully neglected to tell him what Dromund Fels was truly like. In his mind, Rathe recalled all the times Amevar Dresal had called his eldest son, and only his eldest son, into his study and spent hours speaking with him. Rathe had only begun to spend similar time with his father _after_ his brother had left, though at much shorter length. Joltur had seemed to confident when he had left, he had to have known what he was in store for. Rathe on the other hand had felt rather nervous, though he had hidden it behind a mask of confidence that Fels would be a simple training facility.

A second shiver made its way through him, quickly followed by a third, with neither having anything to do with the thoughts running through his mind. blinking, Rathe realized that the sun had finally set, and without it the temperature had dropped significantly. The sweat that had covered his skin as well as his damp hair and clothes began to freeze and his teeth began to chatter. Quickly, he ran the length of his room, retrieving the mattress and blanket he had thrown moments before and pulled both around him as he lay down on the floor. Neither did much to combat the cold, though Rathe continued to tightly clutch both to him for the rest of the night.


	3. Training Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Before I get a bunch of messages from people about how Sith use their anger to fuel their abilities with the force, I want to address a couple things. 
> 
> 1) In this chapter this will be the first time Rathe has ever used the Force before now he's never had any training in using the Force whatsoever as such he doesn't know that anger fuels his abilities, he will, however, learn this in the near future. 
> 
> 2) I know that the force is an internal and external thing, but Rathe doesn't know that. As far as he's concerned the Force is a completely external force. Much like with his anger fueling his powers, Rathe was never taught anything about the force being an external and internal thing, so this will also be something he discovers in the near future.
> 
> Again huge thanks to my betas for doing their thing :D

Amber-yellow eyes snapped open, quickly focusing on the person in front of him.

“You need to get up.” Saril said as he straightened up.

Rathe’s cheeks darkened in embarrassment as he quickly rose to his feet. As he rose, he found that his ribs really had been healed some as they merely throbbed in pain rather than screamed like they had earlier. Looking around the Sith boy felt utterly surprised when he saw the sun had not only finished rising, but was halfway up into the sky. How had he not noticed the time passing? Or the air getting hotter around him? Had he really been concentrating that much he hadn’t noticed anything else? His face flushed faintly as he thought of how humiliating it would have been if someone other than Saril, had roused him.

“Thanks.” He muttered to Saril as they moved to where the students were lining up, falling in line behind the other newcomers. The Chiss boy merely nodded as Instructor Akiva moved to stand in front of the students.

“Well, this is pathetic.” She spat as her eyes roamed along the students, mostly the new students but there were a few older students whom she looked at with disgust. For a moment Rathe was confused, then he felt an outside force not so gently press against him causing his injuries to flare up in pain. “You’re supposed to be the future of the Sith, and yet you barely did anything. You!”

The Twi’lek woman moved closer to a Zabrak girl who looked up her with wide eyes, utterly shocked at being called out by the instructor. “All you had to do was heal a sprained wrist, broken nose, and a few fractured ribs and you barely healed that nose at all.”

The girl looked a bit shaken at having her injuries revealed to the other students, students who would use the information in their fight against her. Though really, it wasn’t much different than students taking note of who had broken noses and swollen shut eyes.

“And you!”

The purple Twi’lek moved towards one of the older students she’d been sneering at, a Sith boy with the same skin tone as Rathe but a few more facial tentacles than him. “How is it that you’ve been here a year and a half and you’ve yet to be able to repair a few bruises and a fractured wrist?” Though he could not see the bruises, Rathe filled away the information about the fractured wrist in case he was paired up against the other boy in a sparring match.

“You!”

Rathe suppressed a smirk as she turned and pointed at a human boy who had been snickering as she tore into the other students.

“What are you laughing about? You barely did anything to fix that strained shoulder or broken fingers of yours.” The amused expression that had been on the human’s face moments before was replaced with a look of reproach and discomfort as the instructor went through the list of injuries he had.

Dread filled Rathe as the Twi’lek’s eyes landed upon him. “And finally you. You were tasked with healing a broken nose and bruised ribs as well as a number of bruises and other minor injuries, and you only managed to slightly heal your ribs and barely did anything with that nose of yours.” She gave him a look filled with condescension and mock hurt. “And after I went through all that trouble of setting your nose for you too.”

Though Rathe’s pride was once again injured as his physical injuries were pointed out for everyone to exploit, he could not help but feel slightly shocked. While he had known his ribs were slightly better than before, he had not thought he had done anything to his nose. Rathe waited until the woman was looking away from him, pointing out the injured of another student to gingerly touch his nose. It still hurt a good deal to touch, but felt less swollen than it had been.

“Akiva.” Rathe looked curiously at Instructor Trevin who’d spoken the moment his fellow instructor had paused and started looking for another target. “I think that’s enough, we still have training to do.”

The Twi’lek woman nodded faintly as she stepped away from the students. Annoyance flared within Rathe as he watched the instructors. Why go through all the trouble of pointing out some of the injuries and not all of them? Even as he asked himself the question, Rathe knew the answer, it was because they wanted him and the others who had been called out to be at a disadvantage.

“You older students are aware of what you’re going to be doing next so you can go on ahead while I instruct the new students further.” The redheaded man said, gesturing for the older students to move on.

Rathe watched curiously as the students moved to an area that was partially walled off with half walls, making it so they could still see the students but they were still somewhat separated from everyone. Inside the area were a number of bags which the students hefted over their shoulders and began doing walking lunges around the area.

“Strength,” Rathe’s eyes snapped back to the redheaded instructor. “Strength is the single greatest attribute a Sith Warrior can possess. While many of you may have other attributes that can enhance your strength, like mastery of the force, cunning, high endurance or speed, at your core, your strength will be what serves you the best. Those of you who survive here will go on to be the fists and blades of the empire, enforcing our domination across the galaxy.” The scarred man’s eyes hardened as he looked at the children around him. “If the empire were to fall it would be because we warriors failed in our duty to the Emperor. For without us, the Inquisitors wouldn’t have muscle to protect them from injury, the Imperial Agents wouldn’t have any but bounty hunters and hired thugs to cause Republic eyes to shift so they can go about their duty unhindered, and Bounty Hunters would lack anyone to keep them in line or prevent them from switching sides. So, it’s imperative that each warrior who comes out of this facility has the strength to do their duty and uphold the responsibility entrusted upon them. It is thus our duty as instructors, to make sure you all acquire that strength.” Trevin turned so he was half facing the area the older students were and extended a hand. From the other side of the wall, a number of short but somewhat thick pipes with handles rose and were pulled over to where the children were by the redheaded instructor. “Each of you needs to take two of these.” The instructor said as he lowered the pipes to the ground. At once, all thirty children moved forward and took two of the pipes as instructed.

Rathe experimentally rotated his hands to the right and left as he peered curiously down at the metallic objects in his hands. While the handles made it easy for the pipes to be lifted, they weren’t really all that necessary in his opinion as the pipes by themselves didn’t seem all that heavy. In fact, they felt rather light. Much lighter than what he’d expected to feel after the Instructor had given them that speech about strength. A few faint murmurings around him let him know he wasn’t the only one who was questioning the lack of weight.

“Now, that all of you have your individual pipes I want you all to line up in a single file line.” With a few grumbles, the students lined up once more, with Rathe and Saril finding spots in the middle of the line. “You are all going to walk around the perimeter of this facility carrying these until I tell you to stop and if any of you stops for any reason, you must immediately walk to the back of the line and continue walking along the perimeter.” Rathe’s eyes followed Trevin’s finger as he used it to point out the path they’d be walking, a path that not only was completely in the sun but also ran around the edge of where the older students were doing their own perimeter walking. “Now, get to it.” The students all began moving as Trevin and Akiva moved into the shade of a nearby building, one that was much better maintained and altogether more solid than the other buildings, positioning themselves so they could easily observe both sets of students.

Though the sun blazing above made him rather hot and sweaty, Rathe was not all that affected by the exercise. Briefly, he wondered if this simple exercise was given to them because much like his father had not had much hope in him succeeding, the instructors didn’t think any of them had much hope of succeeding. The moment the students were out of the instructor’s hearing range, Rathe could hear some students murmuring about how pointless what they were doing was and why were the instructors being so easy on them now when they had been so tough on them the past eighteen hours? Soon the murmurs turned from complaints to some of the male students bragging about how they would be able to do this while running the entire time. This in turn turned into the boys trying to verbally one up each other until finally one of the boys broke off from the rest of the group and began jogging around the perimeter. Wary glances made their way to the instructors, looking for any hint of disapproval. When there was not any berating of the boy, others began moving at a faster pace until half of the children were jogging around the perimeter. Rathe himself was half tempted to join them, but as his body was still aching from the previous night’s sparring and a sleepless night, he was more than willing to take it easy.

As he lapped the courtyard for the second time, Rathe began to notice something: the students who had been jogging were slowing down. He himself was beginning to feel a bit of tension in his shoulders, but he wasn’t tired by any means. As they carried on, the number of students jogging continued to decrease until they were all walking at the same pace as everyone else. Only, unlike everyone else their faces were tense as if they were in pain or a great deal of discomfort. Making a mental note to NOT jog while carrying the pipes, Rathe watched them as he tried to figure out why they looked like they were in pain. After a few more laps, the red skinned boy had his answer; the discomfort that had started in his shoulders had spread down along the length of his arms, as well as along his back, abdomen, and legs. Only instead of being a feeling of general discomfort, it now felt rather painful. Said pain increased as he continued walking. Fighting back a grimace, Rathe continued on, doing his best to ignore the pain even as some of the children around him started slowing down.

“Ozaur get back to the end of the line!” Rathe looked over his shoulder at the sound of Instructor Trevin’s command, raising his eyebrow slightly as he caught sight of a purple skinned Twi’lek boy bending over to pick up the pipes he’d apparently set down. “Remember, none of you are to stop moving until Instructor Akiva says or I say so.”

The group of children continued walking around the perimeter, gradually slowing down with each pass. Despite the burning in his upper body, Rathe stubbornly continued on even as his breathing began to come quicker. Normally, the sith boy would have felt embarrassed for panting for breath, but he wasn’t the only student who was struggling to regain their breath. All of the children around him, including Saril, were breathing heavily and sweating profusely. As they continued on, some of the children began lagging far behind the group falling further and further behind with each lap of the courtyard. Rathe lost track of where they were as he turned his focus solely towards the back of the girl in front of him as he continued onwards. His focus was broken when the human child in front of him stumbled and fell to the ground. Rathe was just barely able to keep from walking over them as he and a number of children around him slowed down to a stop.

“Why have you all stopped? I don’t recall telling you, you could stop.” Trevin called out. The children briefly looked at each other in confusion. One of the students had fallen, was that not reason enough to stop? “All of you get to the back of the line!” Apparently not. With a bit of confusion and hesitance the children all moved to the back of the line, which happened to be behind one of the stragglers who had been too far behind to be slowed up by the boy falling.

As they passed the boy, who had yet to stand back up, Rathe noticed Instructor Akiva and Trevin discussing something for a moment before the Twi’lek woman began making her way over. He kept his eye trained on the purple-skinned woman as the she knelt down by the fallen child and checked his pulse. After a moment, Akiva drew her hand back and struck the child across the face. When that didn't rouse the boy, she struck him a second and third time until finally the boy awoke. “Get up and get to the back of the line!” Rathe heard the instructor say as he stood. The boy responded with something Rathe could not hear but when Instructor Akiva began laughing a laugh that made ice run down his spine, he knew it had not been anything good. “You can’t because you’re too thirsty and tired?” Akiva said amused when she stopped laughing. “A true Sith would never be defeated this easily.” She gave a cold smile. “But then again you’re not a true Sith are you?” She turned so she was looking at the students still moving about the courtyard. “None of you are true Sith! Not even those of you who have been here for years. You are not Sith until you leave this place and believe me, a good number of you won't be leaving this place alive. You new student take a look at him,” Akiva pointed at the student. “This boy will be one of the first of your group to die.” She continued on ignoring the fallen boy’s look of horror. “This one who thought he could easily finish this exercise in the beginning but now says it’s too hard for him to finish will die and no one will mourn him. Just like what will happen for the rest of you.” She spat at the boy who was now struggling to get back onto his feet before moving back off to the side where Trevin still stood.

“Bitch.” Rathe heard someone hiss from his right side. Raising an eyebrow, he turned to look at the Rattatakin girl who had cursed. “How dare she act like we’ll all die! We are Sith! We will not die so easily!”

“WE won’t die so easily.” Rathe corrected. “But HE might.” The light skinned girl’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at him. “Instructor Akiva might be a bitch but she does have a point, anyone who isn’t able to keep going, especially if they’ve shown off only moments before, isn’t a true Sith.”

The Rattatakin girl eyed Rathe a moment before smirking faintly. “I suppose you have a point...”

“Rathe, Rathe Dresal.” The boy offered as the girl’s sentence trailed off expectantly. 

“Seki Xyras.” The pale skinned girl returned before both fell into silence as they steadfastly continued on.


	4. Training Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to my betas for looking over my work for me :D

Amber-yellow eyes snapped open, quickly focusing on the person in front of him. “We need to get up.” Saril said as he straightened up. Rathe’s cheeks darkened  in embarrassment as he quickly rose to his feet. As he rose, he found that his ribs really had been healed some as they merely throbbed in pain rather than screamed like they had earlier. Looking around the Sith boy felt utterly surprised when he saw the sun had not only finished rising, but was halfway up into the sky. How had he not noticed the time passing? Or the air getting hotter around him? Had he really been concentrating that much he hadn’t noticed anything else? His face flushed faintly as he thought of how humiliating it would have been if someone other than Saril, had roused him. “Thanks.” He muttered to Saril as they moved to where the students were lining up, falling in line behind the other newcomers. The Chiss boy merely nodded as Instructor Akiva moved to stand in front of the students.

“Well this is pathetic.” She spat as her eyes roamed along the students, mostly the new students but there were a few older students whom she looked at with disgust. For a moment Rathe was confused, then he felt an outside force not so gently press against him causing his injuries to flare up in pain. “You’re supposed to be the future of the Sith, and yet you barely did anything. You!” The Twi’lek woman moved closer to a Zabrak girl who looked up her with wide eyes, utterly shocked at being called out by the instructor. “All you had to do was heal a sprained wrist, broken nose, and a few fractured ribs and you barely healed that nose at all.” The girl looked a bit shaken at having her injuries revealed to the other students, students who would use the information in their fight against her. Though really, it wasn’t much different than students taking note of who had broken noses and swelled shut eyes. “And you!” The purple Twi’lek moved towards one of the older students she’d been sneering at, a Sith boy with the same skin tone as Rathe but a few more facial tentacles than him. “How is it that you’ve been here a year and a half and you’ve yet to be able to repair a few bruises and a fractured wrist?” Though he couldn’t see the bruises, Rathe filled away the information about the fractured wrist in case he was paired up against the other boy in a sparring match. “You!” Rathe suppressed a smirk as she turned and pointed at a human boy who’d been snickering as she tore into the other students. “What are you laughing about? You barely did anything to fix that strained shoulder or broken fingers of yours.” The amused expression that had been on the human’s face moments before was replaced with a look of reproach and discomfort as the instructor went through the list of injuries he had.

Dread filled Rathe as the Twi’lek’s eyes landed upon him. “And finally you. You were tasked with healing a broken nose and bruised ribs as well as a number of bruises and other minor injuries, and you only managed to slightly heal your ribs and barely did anything with that nose of yours.” She gave him a look filled with condescension and mock hurt. “And after I went through all that trouble of setting your nose for you too.” Though Rathe’s pride was once again injured as his physical injuries were pointed out for everyone to exploit, he couldn’t help but feel slightly shocked. While he’d known his ribs were slightly better than before, he hadn’t thought he’d done anything to his nose. Rathe waited until the woman was looking away from him, pointing out the injured of another student to gingerly touch his nose. It still hurt a good deal to touch, but felt less swollen than it had been.

“Akiva.” Rathe looked curiously at Instructor Trevin who’d spoken the moment his fellow instructor had paused and started looking for another target. “I think that’s enough, we still have training to do.” The Twi’lek woman nodded faintly as she stepped away from the students. Annoyance flared within Rathe as he watched the instructors. Why go through all the trouble of pointing out _some_ of the injuries and not _all_ of them? Even as he asked himself the question, Rathe knew the answer, it was because they wanted him and the others who’d been called out to be at a disadvantage. “You older students are aware of what you’re going to be doing next so you can go on ahead while I instruct the new students further.” The redheaded man said, gesturing for the older students to move on. Rathe watched curiously as the students moved to an area that was partially walled off with half walls, making it so they could still see the students but they were still somewhat separated from everyone. Inside the area were a number of bags which the students hefted over their shoulders and began doing walking lunges around the area.

“Strength,” Rathe’s eyes snapped back to the redheaded instructor. “Strength is the single greatest attribute a Sith Warrior can possess. While many of you may have other attributes that can enhance your strength, like mastery of the force, cunning, high endurance or speed, _at your core_ , your strength will be what serves you the best. Those of you who survive here will go on to be the fists and blades of the empire, enforcing our domination across the galaxy.” The scarred man’s eyes hardened as he looked at the children around him. “If the empire were to fall it would be because we warriors failed in our duty to the Emperor. For without us, the Inquisitors wouldn’t have muscle to protect them from injury, the Imperial Agents wouldn’t have any but bounty hunters and hired thugs to cause Republic eyes to shift so they can go about their duty unhindered, and Bounty Hunters would have no one to keep them in line or prevent them from switching sides. So it’s imperative that each and every warrior who comes out of this facility has the strength to do their duty and uphold the responsibility entrusted upon them. It is thus our duty as instructors, to make sure you all acquire that strength.” Trevin turned so he was half facing the area the older students were and extended a hand. From the other side of the wall, a number of short but somewhat thick pipes with handles rose and were pulled over to where the children were by the redheaded instructor. “Each of you needs to take two of these.” The instructor said as he lowered the pipes to the ground. At once, all thirty children moved forward and took two of the pipes as instructed.

Rathe experimentally rotated his hands to the right and left as he peered curiously down at the metallic objects in his hands. While the handles made it easy for the pipes to be lifted, they weren’t really all that necessary in his opinion as the pipes by themselves didn’t seem all that heavy. In fact, they felt rather light. Much lighter than what he’d expected to feel after the Instructor had given them that speech about strength. A few faint murmurings around him let him know he wasn’t the only one who was questioning the lack of weight. “Now that all of you have your individual pipes I want you all to line up in a single file line.” With a few grumbles, the students lined up once more, with Rathe and Saril finding spots in the middle of the line. “You are all going to walk around the perimeter of this facility carrying these until I tell you to stop and if any of you stops for any reason, you must immediately walk to the back of the line and continue walking along the perimeter.” Rathe’s eyes followed Trevin’s finger as he used it to point out the path they’d be walking, a path that not only was completely in the sun but also ran around the edge of where the older students were doing their own perimeter walking. “Now get to it.” The students all began moving as Trevin and Akiva moved into the shade of a nearby building, one that was much better maintained and altogether more solid than the other buildings, positioning themselves so they could easily observe both sets of students.

Though the sun blazing above made him rather hot and sweaty, Rathe wasn’t all that affected by the exercise. Briefly, he wondered if this simple exercise was given to them because much like his father hadn’t had much hope in him succeeding, the instructors didn’t think any of them had much hope of succeeding. The moment the students were out of the instructor’s hearing range, Rathe could hear some students murmuring about how pointless what they were doing was and why were the instructors being so easy on them _now_ when they’d been so tough on them the past eighteen hours? Soon the murmurs turned from complaints to some of the male students bragging about how they would be able to do this while running the entire time. This in turn turned into the boys trying to verbally one up each other until finally one of the boys broke off from the rest of the group and began jogging around the perimeter. Wary glances made their way to the instructors, looking for any hint of disapproval. When there wasn’t any berating of the boy, others began moving at a faster pace until half of the children were jogging around the perimeter. Rathe himself was half tempted to join them, but as his body was still aching from the previous night’s sparring and a sleepless night, he was more than willing to take it easy.

As he lapped the courtyard for the second time, Rathe began to notice something: the students who had been jogging were slowing down. He himself was beginning to feel a bit of tension in his shoulders, but he wasn’t tired by any means. As they carried on, the number of students jogging continued to decrease until they were all walking at the same pace as everyone else. Only, unlike everyone else their faces were tense as if they were in pain or a great deal of discomfort. Making a mental note to NOT jog while carrying the pipes, Rathe watched them as he tried to figure out why they looked like they were in pain. After a few more laps, the red skinned boy had his answer; the discomfort that had started in his shoulders had spread down along the length of his arms, as well as along his back, abdomen and legs. Only instead of being a feeling of general discomfort, it now felt rather painful. Said pain increased as he continued walking. Fighting back a grimace, Rathe continued on, doing his best to ignore the pain even as some of the children around him started slowing down.

“Ozaur get back to the end of the line!” Rathe looked over his shoulder at the sound of Instructor Trevin’s command, raising his eyebrow slightly as he caught sight of a purple skinned Twi’lek boy bending over to pick up the pipes he’d apparently set down. “Remember, none of you are to stop moving until I or Instructor Akiva say so.”

The group of children continued walking around the perimeter, gradually slowing down with each pass. Despite the burning in his upper body, Rathe stubbornly continued on even as his breathing began to come quicker. Normally, the sith boy would have felt embarrassed for panting for breath, but he wasn’t the only student who was struggling to regain their breath. All of the children around him, including Saril, were breathing heavily and sweating profusely. As they continued on, some of the children began lagging far behind the group falling further and further behind with each lap of the courtyard. Rathe lost track of where they were as he turned his focus solely towards the back of the girl in front of him as he continued onwards. His focus was broken when the human child in front of him stumbled and fell to the ground. Rathe was just barely able to keep from walking over them as he and a number of children around him slowed down to a stop.

“Why have you all stopped? I don’t recall telling you, you could stop.” Trevin called out. The children briefly looked at each other in confusion. One of the students had fallen, wasn’t that reason enough to stop? “All of you get to the back of the line!” Apparently not. With a bit of confusion and hesitance the children all moved to the back of the line, which happened to be behind one of the stragglers who’d been too far behind to be slowed up by the boy falling.

As they passed the boy, who’d yet to stand back up, Rathe noticed Instructor Akiva and Trevin discussing something for a moment before the Twi’lek woman began making her way over. He kept his eye trained on the purple-skinned woman as the she knelt down by the fallen child and checked his pulse. After a moment, Akiva drew her hand back and struck the child across the face. When that didn't rouse the boy, she struck him a second and third time until finally the boy awoke. “Get up and get to the back of the line!” Rathe heard the instructor say as he stood. The boy responded with something Rathe couldn’t hear but when Instructor Akiva began laughing a laugh that made ice run down his spine, he knew it hadn’t been anything good. “You can’t because you’re too thirsty and tired?” Akiva said amused when she stopped laughing. “A true Sith would never be defeated this easily.” She gave a cold smile. “But then again you’re not a true Sith are you?” She turned so she was looking at the students still moving about the courtyard. “None of you are true Sith! Not even those of you who have been here for years. You are not Sith until you leave this place and believe me, a good number of you won't be leaving this place alive. You new student take a look at him,” Akiva pointed at the student. “This boy will be one of the first of your group to die.” She continued on ignoring the fallen boy’s look of horror. “This one who thought he could easily finish this exercise in the beginning but now says it’s too hard for him to finish will die and no one will mourn him. Just like what will happen for the rest of you.” She spat at the boy who was now struggling to get back onto his feet before moving back off to the side where Trevin still stood.

“Bitch.” Rathe heard someone hiss from his right side. Raising an eyebrow, he turned to look at the Rattatakin girl who’d cursed. “How dare she act like we’ll all die! We are Sith! We will not die so easily!”

“WE won’t die so easily.” Rathe corrected. “But HE might.” The light skinned girl’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at him. “Instructor Akiva might be a bitch but she does have a point, anyone who isn’t able to keep going, especially if they’ve shown off only moments before, isn’t a true Sith.”

The Rattatakin girl eyed Rathe a moment before smirking faintly. “I suppose you have a point....”

“Rathe, Rathe Dresal.” The boy offered as the girl’s sentence trailed off expectantly.

“Seki Xyras.” The pale skinned girl returned before both fell into silence as they steadfastly continued on.


	5. Rematch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The training progresses on to the final portion of the day: sparring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Star Wars the Old Republic does not belong to me if it did I wouldn't have to pay for a subscription.
> 
> Also, huge thanks to my betas :D

Hours dragged on in silence as Rathe determinedly continued on. By now, none of the children were making any noise aside from the heavy breathing coming from their mouths and their feet hitting the sand. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Instructor Trevin looked up at the sun and called out. “Okay, you all can stop moving.” With a collective groan all of the students dropped the bars they’d been carrying as they came to a stop, some actually collapsing onto the ground. Though Rathe felt the urge to follow their lead, he kept himself from doing so as he noticed the older students pointing and laughing at the ones who’d fallen to the ground. Amongst them stood Kasal, who was giving the younger students a superior look, when the human’s eyes locked with Rathe’s the human’s superior look transformed into a mocking smirk. Rathe’s amber-gold eyes narrowed at the other boy as he curled his hands into fists, ignoring the twinges of pain the action caused.

“Don’t get too comfortable.” Instructor Akiva said, drawing Rathe’s attention away from Kasal. A frown appeared on his face as he noted Instructor Uthyn exit one of the buildings and make his way over to his fellow instructors. Up until that moment, Rathe hadn’t given much thought to where the fat bastard was, only vaguely noting that he had been nowhere in sight during the duration of the training exercises. Now though, the Sith boy was extremely curious as to exactly where the large human had been, and why he was only now appearing. “Form a single file line like you did earlier and wait to receive your water.”

Wearily, the students moved into a single file line as instructed, though Rathe kept his eyes on Instructor Uthyn as the large human continued on his way, eventually coming to a stop next to the well Trevin had been standing by earlier. An uneasy feeling rose within the Sith boy as he realized the human who seemed to hate him would be in charge of handing cups of water out to the students. The uneasy feeling grew as the line began moving forward and the Instructor showed his sadistic side by making it difficult for the exhausted new students to get theirs by holding it out of their reach or “accidentally” spilling some of the water thus giving that particular child half or less of a cup of water. Though the other instructors did nothing to stop Uthyn, Rathe thought he saw Instructor Akiva’s eyes narrow ever so faintly as the fat instructor took particular enjoyment out of harassing a young Twi’lek girl. Instructor Trevin on the other hand, showed nothing but cool disinterest as his larger human counterpart tormented the children.

Much faster than he’d thought possible, Rathe found himself standing in front of Instructor Uthyn. The uneasy feeling grew exponentially as he saw the fat man's lips twist into a cruel smirk. “Well, well. If it isn’t sleeping beauty himself.” The Sith boy’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he, and all of the other students, was reminded of him passing out after his fight the previous day. “I do hope that you’ll be less rude this evening and will be able to refrain from falling asleep during training. Or has living life as the son of the great captain Amevar Dresal rendered you incapable of being anything less than a spoiled, self-obsessed brat?” Quiet murmuring behind him let Rathe know the other students had heard Uthyn say his father’s name, though the other two instructors didn’t seem at all surprised about who his father was. Rathe’s cheeks burned a darker shade of red in a combination of anger and humiliation as the instructor revealed his inability, so far, to live up to being Amevar Dresal’s son. “Then again your brother didn’t do much better.” The Sith boy was half tempted to simply leave the line and join the students who had already received their water, but his parched throat prevented him from doing so.

“Enough Uthyn.” Both Rathe and the large human looked at the redheaded instructor who’d spoken. “Get the line moving again so they don’t get any time to rest.” Trevin gestured towards the students who had already had their water.

“Yeah yeah.” Instructor Uthyn grumbled, clearly unhappy to have his fun cut short, holding out a cup for Rathe. Predictably, as Rathe moved to take it, the fat instructor moved the cup out of his reach. Unpredictably, when the Sith boy made a second attempt, Uthyn let go of the cup right as Rathe’s fingers brushed against it. The Sith boy fumbled with the cup, doing his best to get a firm hold on it, and with the greatest of luck managed to do just that, after spilling half or more of the contents. Quickly swallowing the remaining water, Rathe didn’t trust the instructor to not attempt to flat out knock it out of his hands, the Sith boy gave the cup back and moved over to where the other children who’d already received water stood.

“What was all that about?” Seki asked as Rathe came to a stop where she and Saril were standing.

“I have no idea.” Rathe admitted honestly, with a faint shrug. “I really don’t!” He continued when Saril gave him a disbelieving look. Before either the Chiss or Rattataki could express further disbelief, their attention was drawn back to the instructors.

“Now that everyone has had their second and final cup of water for the day, we will now move onto the final exercise of the day: your sparring matches.” Instructor Trevin said, gesturing towards the building they’d sparred in the previous day. A few of the children made noises of surprise and displeasure at the thought of sparring with someone yet again, Rathe himself felt some disbelief at the idea as the muscles in his arms and legs, as well as the rest of his body, were still strained and taut from the day’s exercise. Yet, at the same time he wasn’t all that surprised they were being made to fight again since the entire day they’d been forced to do one physically exhausting or daunting task one right after the other. Judging by the grim faces of some of the newer students around him, he wasn’t the only one to come to that conclusion. “Come, let us see who will win their rations _this_ evening.” At the reminder that winning their match was the only way to receive their rations, the children became slightly more enthusiastic as they began quickly walking towards the building. Much like the previous day, the room was stifling hot and the air humid, making it slightly harder to breathe.

“Once again,” Instructor Akiva began as she and the other two instructors made their way to the center of the room while the students formed a ring around the outside of the sparring area. “We will call two of your names and whoever is called must fight no matter what and if any of you attempt to get out of it or refuse to fight both of you will go without rations for the night.” Rathe’s lower lip was caught between his teeth as he worried for a moment about possibly going up against Saril or Seki, he would do his best to fight them but he’d worry about losing his newly formed ties if he beat them. _If!?_ Rathe shook his head at the slight doubt in his mind. Normally, he was much more confident in his abilities, but as he’d missed out on Saril and Seki’s matches the day before, he had no clue how well either of them had fought or how their skills matched up to his.

“The first opponents of the day will be,” Instructor Uthyn began, pulling Rathe out of his thoughts. “Kasal Traael.” Rathe’s eyes narrowed faintly as the fat instructor’s eyes landed upon him. He wasn’t going to pull the same thing twice was he? “And our resident sleeping beauty.” The Sith boy clenched his jaw at the mocking name the instructor had given him, but dutifully made his way out into the middle of the ring.

“This will be over quick.” Kasal said cockily as they picked up their practice blades and turned to face each other.

“Don’t count on it.” Rathe hissed back as he glared at the older human.

“FIGHT!” Uthyn bellowed, cutting through their conversation.

Unlike the previous day, Rathe didn’t charge forward immediately, instead he fell into a guarded stance and watched the other boy. Kasal paced back and forth a few times, feigning a few attacks to draw Rathe out of his stance. “You want to be that way? Fine.” The dark-skinned human said as he went on the attack with a fast lunge the Sith boy easily blocked but was forced to take a step back from. Rathe was further pushed back as the older boy continued to press his attack. Gritting his teeth, he blocked and did his best to parry the flurry of lunges and feints coming at him. The attack came to an end when Kasal pulled back after an attempted swipe at the Sith boy’s legs was blocked. Breathing slightly heavily, the two boys circle each other as they wait for the other to attack, the lull is broken when Rathe lunges forward with a swipe at Kasal’s left shoulder. An attack that is easily parried by the older, more experienced fighter and the Sith boy finds himself once again on the receiving end of an attack. Hoping to get a hit in, Rathe side steps a lunge and attempts to get around behind the other boy only to experience a sharp pain in his side when Kasal recovers much quicker than expected and takes advantage of Rathe’s close proximity and lowered guard.

Hissing in pain, the Sith boy pressed his hand against his ribs, hoping the strong blow that’d just been delivered to them hadn’t caused any fractures he’d received the day before to break further. The two boys circled each other once more, looking for any opening in the other’s defense. This time, the lull was broken when Kasal took two quick steps to the side and once again lunged at Rathe, in an attempt to get the Sith boy to drop his defense. When the attack was blocked, the human boy began zigzagging in his attacks, forcing Rathe to defend against an attack from the left right after having to defend against an attack from the right all the while being forced to back up. The moment he realized just how far he’d backed up, was the moment his back crashed into someone and he found himself being shoved forward. Instead of fighting to regain his balance or remain on his feet, Rathe used the momentum from the shove to tuck himself into a roll and roll around Kasal, dodging the attack that’d been aimed at his face. Quickly springing up, Rathe turned back towards his opponent, who’d spun around, and attempted to use his opponents strategy against him, first by lunging at him from the right with an attack aimed at his feet and when it was blocked, aimed another attack at him from the left side. While the attacks did put Kasal on the defense, it didn’t force him to move back like Rathe had been forced to do. Frustrated that the attack wasn’t working like he’d thought it would, the Sith boy attempted a downward strike that would have struck Kasal’s arm if he hadn’t dodged out of the way. But the human _did_ move out of the way, and repaid Rathe for his carelessness with a blow to his shoulder that caused the entire length of his arm to tingle.

Rathe let out another hiss, shaking his arm for a moment to try to make the tingling stop. He glared at the other boy who was pacing back and forth with a sadistic smile as the tingling lessened, feeling very much like he was a mouse being toyed with by a cat. As Kasal charged forward to press the attack once more, Rathe charged forward as well, their blades crashing together as they met halfway. The two boys’ blades clashed together time after time as they attacked and defended themselves against attack, the clash coming to an end when instead of blocking an attack Kasal simply moved back a step causing Rathe to stumble forward. Using the Sith boy’s stumble to his advantage, Kasal brought his knee up and slammed it into the red skinned boy’s injured ribs forcing all the air in Rathe’s lungs to come rushing out. Rathe gasped for breath as he attempted to get back onto his feet only to be knocked to the ground when the pommel of Kasal’s practice sword slammed into the back of the red skinned boy’s head. Still gasping for air, and flushed from embarrassment and anger, Rathe attempted to get up once more, only to stop when the tip of the other boy’s practice sword pressed against the side of his neck.

“Like I said, this will be over quick.” Rathe didn’t even have to look at the other boy to know his cocky smirk was back on his face, wider than ever.

“It looks like Kasal will be receiving rations this evening as well.” The practice blade was removed from Rathe’s neck as Instructor Uthyn spoke, and the red skinned boy finally made his way back onto his feet. He gritted his teeth as pain shot out from his ribs as he made his way over to where Instructor Trevin stood to return his practice blade. Once the blade left his hand, the red skinned boy limped over to where Saril and Seki stood. The next few fights passed in a frenzied blur of blades flashing and students crying out when blows connected as Rathe worked to get his breathing under control and then did his best to ignore the exhaustion and pain he felt. He focused his eyes upon the fighting once more when Saril was called to fight against a Twi’lek girl. From the beginning of the fight Saril dominated the fight by first successfully using feints to confuse his opponent and then using his superior strength to knock aside her attempts to block his attacks. The Sith boy’s eyes widened faintly as the fight was quickly brought to an end when after knocking her blade aside, Saril pressed the flat of his practice blade against her throat and was declared the winner in nearly half the time of his own fight. Either his new ally was much stronger and was a much better fighter than he’d previously thought, or the Twi’lek girl was just that much weaker than the Chiss boy. Glancing at the bruises covering the blue skinned boy’s face, Rathe came to the conclusion that it was more the latter as Saril had had problems when fighting against a more experienced student. Of course, he could be completely wrong, so the Sith boy decided to wait for a few more fights before coming to a conclusion about his ally.

“Sorry.” Saril said apologetically, as he rejoined Rathe and Seki.

“Don’t be, you earned yours just like Kasal earned his. I’ll just work twice as hard to win tomorrow’s bout.” Though Rathe had a feeling he’d be going up against Kasal so it was possible he’d go for a third night without rations. His determination to beat the dark-skinned human grew as his eyes wandered over to where the other boy was standing, he _had_ to win the next fight no matter what. Otherwise, he’d wind up starving like Uthyn was no doubt hoping for. His hands curled into fists as he glared at the human who was currently chatting with his three lackeys.

His amber-yellow eyes were torn away from the human as he heard Seki’s name being called to fight against a taller human. Since they’d spoken out in the yard, Rathe had been discretely examining Seki and had noticed the number of bruises she had were much lower than the number he and Saril were currently sporting which he’d interpreted to mean she’d won her first bout. So he was very curious to see how she performed during this bout. The fight immediately started with her opponent charging her with his blade raised above him, a tactic that almost had Rathe gaping in shock to see. Very few Sith would ever simply rush forward with their blade raised above them, exposing the majority of their body to attack. Seki, in fact, made him pay for the gap in defense by striking his knee. Unfortunately, though the attack hit, and had enough force behind it to cause her opponent to walk with a slight limp afterwards, it was one of the few blows she was able to land as the human’s greater strength and size proved to be too much for her to overcome. All too soon, she was in a similar position to what he’d been in, gasping for breath on the ground with her opponent’s blade pressed against her throat. Visibly frustrated, the pale-skinned girl made her way over to them with clenched fists and jaw.

“You did well out there considering.” Saril said as Rathe gave her a sympathetic look.

“Not well enough.” She ground out before falling silent, maintaining her silence throughout the remaining fights. Rathe himself did his best to try to pay attention to them, but eventually became distracted by his exhaustion and pain once more.

“All right, that’s the last fight of the night.” Instructor Uthyn announced as the final two fighters made their way out of the ring. “I want you all to line up like you did last night: winners with Instructor Akiva and losers with Instructor Trevin.” Silently, Rathe and Seki moved to Trevin’s line while Saril moved to Akiva’s line. Once all of the losers of the day had lined up the red headed instructor began leading them outside while his fellow instructor began handing out rations to the winners.


	6. Crime and Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few bits of information the children received on their first day are driven home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This is probably a good time to remind everyone that I am basing a lot of the training in this story off of historically, what the Spartans put their young men through. This includes harsh punishments that a lot of people might find utterly brutal because they involve children.
> 
> As always, huge thanks to my betas :D

Rathe wearily trudged back to the building that housed the student rooms, even in his tired state he hesitated to call the rooms’ dorms as they’d obviously not been built with sleeping arrangements in mind, doing his best to not stumble over his own two feet. Adding onto the physical training combined with his thrashing at the hands of Kasal once more---being forced to stand around and watch the other matches and not getting hardly any sleep the night before had left him utterly exhausted. Normally, the Sith would have felt ashamed of having to place so much effort into placing one foot in front of the other, but seeing as how there were other children who were tripping and visibly stumbling, any sting of pride he might have felt was absent. His cheeks darkened faintly when, upon arriving at the building, Rathe’s foot caught on a slightly raised stone at the entrance, causing him to stumble slightly. His hand bracing against the wall was the only reason he was able to recover from his stumble so quickly and continue his way down the hall to his room.

As tired as Rathe was, and as good as the tiny mat that served as his bed looked, he refused to allow himself to fall asleep just yet. He want to use some of the night in a somewhat useful way by further figuring out how to heal himself, right now in his room and the bit of time dedicated towards training the ability would be the only times he’d be able to practice and he wanted to get the hand of the technique as soon as possible. So, when the Instructors moved onto the next room for the nightly roll call/room check, Rathe sat down in the middle of his room with his legs crossed and began to mentally search for the energy he’d discovered earlier in the day.

His eyes shot open as a shrill noise pierced through the air. Pushing himself up out of the position he’d been lying in, Rathe became aware of three things, one: he’d fallen asleep while trying to meditate, two: it was currently morning, three: he hadn’t accomplished anything he’d meant to do the night before. Cursing himself for his inability to fight his exhaustion, the Sith boy quickly rose to his feet, or rather he attempted to quickly rise to his feet but was unable to as a blinding pain emanating from his ribs hit him. Sucking in a shaky breath, the Rathe made a second attempt at standing, this time much slower, and made his way out of his room.

“How’d you sleep last night?” The Chiss boy asked as Rathe looked around for Seki.

“Better.” He said as he spotted the Rattataki girl further down the hallway from them, near two of Kasal’s lackeys; the orange skinned Sith boy Mathieu and the human girl Talia. His lips thinned at the thought of one of his own allies being so far away from himself and his other ally and so close to two of Kasal’s. Hopefully, they wouldn’t pull anything but he didn’t completely dismiss the possibility.

“How’re the ribs? Broken?”

Rathe shook his head in response to the other boy’s question. “Not broken, but they hurt like hell.” Along with practically every muscle in his body and his hands, which sported small but painful blisters on the palms of his hands.

“Not surprising.” In all actuality, Rathe was somewhat surprised none of them were broken considering the beating he’d taken the day prior. Once again, he cursed himself for allowing himself to fall asleep when he should have used the time to start healing himself. Much like the prior day, the students followed Trevin outside where they then lined up and received their first drink of water of the day. Once the liquid hit Rathe’s empty stomach, he became very aware of how he hadn’t eaten for two days now as his stomach rumbled, demanding it be filled. He did his best to ignore the rumbling as he stepped away from the instructor.

As he waited for the other students to get their water, Rathe began to truly examine the older students. Though there wasn’t anything that marked what year they were, there were slight differences that allowed him to figure out which ones had been there for a while and which ones had only arrived the year prior. The most obvious difference was that the boys and girls who were in their fifth and last year were about a foot taller than the students who’d just arrived. Granted, Saril was about the same height as them so height wasn’t exactly the best indicator to go by. After the obvious height differences, there were other more subtle differences that separated the different age groups. As the age progressed, there was an increased look of desperation that only started to decrease and become replaced by a hardness in the eyes of the fourth and fifth year students. Another thing Rathe noted, was that as the age of the group rose the amount of students within that group decreased, based off of the number of students he’d arrived with, Rathe estimated that the oldest age group contained a little less than half as many students as his own age group.

As the last student received and drank their water and the instructors began removing the cups from the area, a majority of the students began moving towards the training area in which they’d had their healing session the morning before. Only a handful of new students, of which Rathe, Saril, and Seki were not among, remained looking uncertain of what they should do.

“Don’t tell me you all have forgotten what you’re supposed to do next.” Instructor Akiva said mockingly, as she noticed the student’s hesitation. The students who were being addressed flushed in embarrassment and began shuffling their feet. “You poor pampered children, so used to being told what to do and how to do it, you now have no idea how to follow a routine unless its spelled out for you.” The mocking tone was infused with an undercurrent of disgust and hate as the Twi’lek woman sneered at them. “Well I guarantee you, that we’ll _break_ you of that habit before you leave here.”

As he lowered himself into a seated position, Rathe watched the humiliated children quickly find places around the training area to sit or kneel down. He felt a slight pang of sympathy for them, which he quickly smothered because, why should he feel sympathetic towards those whom deserved criticism? He was in the process of beginning to turn his attention inward, when something out in the distance of the desert caught his attention. At first he thought it was simply an odd shadow, because it simply couldn’t be a person coming towards them through the desert. After all, where would someone come from in the desert? So it must have simply been the early morning light playing tricks on him. But as the object came closer, Rathe realized that he _wasn’t_ seeing things, there actually was a person moving through the desert towards them. He continued watching the figure, until his attention was drawn away by a pair of fingers snapping in front of his face. Blinking, Rathe looked up at the figure looming over him.

“Is there a reason why you’re stalling?” Instructor Trevin asked with a faintly raised eyebrow. “I would think that someone who'd taken a beating two days in a row would want to focus all of his attention towards healing himself.”

Despite his face flushing at the faintly mocking tone, Rathe was able to ignore the embarrassment he felt as he nodded an affirmative which caused Trevin’s eyebrow to rise higher. “There’s someone out there.” He said, pointing towards the figure.

“So I see.” The redheaded man murmured as he followed the line of Rathe’s finger. “Akiva,” he turned away from Rathe as he began addressing his fellow instructor. “It appears that Mannis has decided to rejoin us.” Akiva pushed off from where she stood in the shade, leaning against the side of the Arena, turning her attention towards the entrance to the expansive space that was the desert wasteland. A cruelly delighted smile alighted her face the moment she spotted the aforenamed Mannis and began moving towards a building diagonal from the student dormitory. “Good eye.” The comment was spoken so idly and quietly, that the Sith boy was half sure he’d imagined it, becoming even more convinced he’d imagined it when Trevin made no acknowledgment of his comment as he moved to the center of the area and clapped his hands loudly.

“I apologize for interrupting your morning meditations so soon after you began them.” He began once he had the attention of all the present students. “But it appears that we have a rare opportunity for driving home a point that all of you,” he cast his eyes over the older students. “Should keep in mind during your duration here.” Beyond him, Rathe could see Instructor Akiva emerging from the building she’d entered moments ago, carrying something in her hands.

The figure that’d grown steadily larger, seemed to pause for a moment. It was almost as though this Mannis was wavering in his decision to come back to the facility. Akiva, whose purple skin easily stood out against the white sand and bleached white walls of buildings, moved to the center of the training area and unfurled the bundle she’d been holding. Rathe felt his breath catch as he realized the bundle in her arms was a neuronic whip. He knew of households that prized that brand of whip when punishing their slaves; it could fracture bones but was very unlikely to incur death. His father had instead preferred using an electro whip as it could adequately punish a slave but would prevent that slave from being unable to work while it recovered from its injuries. That Akiva, a former slave, was now wielding one made Rathe want to put as much distance between the two of them as possible.

As the figure drew closer, Rathe was able to make out more and more of his features. Mannis turned out to be a very lean human boy with hair dirtied from the sand blowing about. His clothes were dirty and ratty and full of so many tears and holes the only thing they really did was preserve his dignity in front of everyone. In fact, Rathe found himself wondering why Mannis didn’t simply discard of the torn fabric that remained of his shirt as, judging by the angry pink skin showing beneath the large gaps in the fabric, it barely did what it was originally intended for. Drawing ever closer, Rathe was able to make out the approaching human’s eyes that were so bloodshot they looked to be an almost solid pink.

As Mannis finally crossed over the threshold separating the facility from the desert, Rathe was able to examine him better. What he’d initially mistaken for as a lean form, was actually a severely malnourished one that made him wonder exactly how long the human boy had been out in the desert. His face was very gaunt causing his cheek bones to be extremely pronounced and his eyes to be sunken into his head, making Rathe almost uncomfortably aware of the shape of Mannis’s skull. His eyes possessed a desperation that was similar and yet utterly different from the desperation he’d seen in the eyes of the second and third year students. His was much more manic, and twitchy. Almost like a rodent or cockroach that’d been caught but didn’t have any where to escape to.

“Instructors.” The word was spoken in a raspy voice that either hinted at disuse or how dry the other boy’s throat was or perhaps a combination of the two, Rathe wasn’t entirely sure.

“Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise.” Akiva purred menacingly as she moved towards the student. “Trevin and I had thought for certain you’d be dead by now.”

“Mannis decided nearly a week ago, that he would rather take his chances out there in the desert than remain at this facility” Instructor Trevin said, the corner of his mouth curving upwards ever so faintly in a coldly amused smirk as he looked around at the children sitting or kneeling in the courtyard rather than at the boy he spoke of. “However, as you all can plainly see, Mannis has since reconsidered his decision and had come back to us. For that he will now be punished,” there was a faint gasp of shock, though from whom Rathe didn’t know. “This is because no Sith should allow themselves to show as big of a weakness as either not being able to tell when a decision will most likely result in their death, or being unable to see their decisions through to the end no matter how difficult the path it might be.” Rathe found himself blinking and narrowing his eyes slightly as Trevin turned to look at his fellow instructor, he  _thought_ he had seen the faint smile on the instructor's face soften for a moment. “Akiva here will demonstrate the sort of punishment you will expect to receive should you come up with the foolish notion of following Mannis’s example.”

The Twi’lek woman in question, who up until this point had been silently staring at Mannis with a sadistic grin, let out a bark of laughter as the boy flinched at Trevin’s words. “Don’t worry boy.” She drawled. “I’m not going to kill you. Rather when I’m through with you you’ll be begging for death.”

Suddenly, the redheaded man held his hand out towards Mannis, who let out a strangled noise of surprise as he suddenly spun around at a speed that should have made him fall over and stretched his arms out to either side. For a moment, there was a faint push on the edge of Rathe’s consciousness, similar to a the feel of a faint breeze against his skin. He tilted his head slightly, watching the other boy, as the dots connected within his head and he realized the sensation was likely what it felt like when someone else used the force. The Sith boy frowned faintly as the realization led to a number of questions, such as why hadn’t he felt the same sensation the day prior when all of the students had been healing themselves? It was possible that the other newly arrived students might have been having difficulty healing themselves, as they’d been given very little instruction on how to do so, but surely the older students would know how to do that, wouldn’t they? He couldn’t imagine a student being there for a year or more and not being able to know how to do that. So if that were true, and one who was force sensitive could sense when the force was being used, then why hadn’t he been able to feel the other students healing?

Rathe was torn from his thoughts as a loud crack sounded throughout the courtyard. Blinking, the Sith boy was greeted to the sight of Akiva drawing the whip back after having struck Mannis with the first blow, and an angry dark red welt on the other boy’s back. Before, the courtyard had been almost completely silent, aside from the Instructors talking and the faint whispering between some of the students. Now, the courtyard was completely silent aside from the wind blowing and the sound the tip of Akiva’s whip coming in contact with the sand as she pulled her arm fully back. Rathe flinched as the whip came in contact with Mannis’s back a second time, this time leaving an angry red line crisscrossing the previously left welt. A third blow landed, leaving its mark from the back of his right shoulder down along his ribs. In spite of himself, Rathe found himself feeling a bit of respect for the other boy, as, despite Mannis’s obviously weakened state, he gamely refused to make a sound as the strikes kept coming. A feat made even more impressive by the fact that Akiva was sending stunning jolt after stunning jolt at him with every hit. Mannis finally lost the battle when the whip struck the back of his neck though by that point half of his back was covered in welts or bloodied lines.

The sun had risen far beyond the horizon, and sweat was forming on Rathe’s brow when Akiva’s blows came to a sudden halt. The courtyard filled with silence as Mannis sagged against his invisible restraints, letting out gasping, ragged breaths as she stepped away from him. By now, a good portion of the boy’s skin had been torn off, leaving a majority of his back raw and seeping blood. Though number of Akiva’s blows had caused rather deep cuts that had left thick trails of blood running down his back, staining the remnants of his clothing. The most morbidly fascinating thing to Rathe throughout the whole thing, aside from watching how long it took Mannis to make a noise, had been watching the sand beneath and behind the other boy grow darker and darker from the blood splattering off his back.

As Akiva began going through the motions of putting the whip away, Rathe’s eyes remained focused upon Mannis. Had he been anyone else, Rathe might have felt more than a sliver of pity for the other boy. As, despite kind of deserving his punishment, the boy now had to worry about a somewhat serious wound in addition to obviously suffering from malnutrition and as far as Rathe could tell there wasn’t any medical facility to help speed up the healing process. Rathe blinked as the meaning of his thoughts hit him, and looked around the compound. There were a number of buildings scattered about, but aside from the mini space port/landing pad, the arena, the student’s rooms and where he assumed the Instructor’s slept, he assumed because that building was the one that appeared to be constantly maintained while the others fell into disrepair, he didn’t know what any of them contained. So, he was unsure if there even was a medical facility on the premise.

_But if there was one, surely we would have been shown it._ Amber-gold eyes widened slightly as Rathe suddenly realized what it meant if there were no medical facility on the premises. The students themselves would have to heal _every_ wound on their own, he turned back towards Mannis and his bloodied back, each and every single one of them.

  
  
  



	7. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sith's training progresses onto the healing portion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always huge thanks to my betas for doing their thing! :D

“Well, that was a fascinating demonstration.” Trevin said, speaking for the first time since the punishment had begun. He half-heartedly waved his hand towards Mannis, causing the boy to fall forward onto the sand beneath him. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson Mannis.” He continued watching the boy with pitiless eyes as Mannis began struggling to his feet. “And won't think of doing something so foolish next time. And as for the rest of you,” the Instructor turned to look at the students watching him attentively. “I believe you still have some healing to do, hmm?”

 

Rathe glanced at the sun for a brief moment, before looking back at the instructor with a scowl. Judging by the position of the sun, they had maybe three hours to heal themselves. Considering how long it had taken him to heal himself the tiniest bit, Rathe doubted he would be able to do anything in that short lives. Cursing himself for not using some of the time during Mannis’s punishment to heal himself, Rathe closed his eyes and began searching for the force with his mind. Now, that he knew what to search for with his mind, he was able to find it much faster than he had been able to the day before. He exhaled heavily as he connected once more with the force, the sensation of being connected to the universe was less shocking and much headier than it had been when he had first made the connection. Not wanting to waste any more time, Rathe directed the force towards his ribs, using a cursory probe of them to reveal how badly damaged they were. A good number of his ribs were merely bruised, though that did not really fill him with any sense of relief as eight of his remaining ribs had fractures in them and two were in fact broken, with the two edges of bone completely separated from one another.

 

Hurriedly, he directed the force at his broken ribs, his breath hitched faintly at the pain shooting through him as the broken pieces were moved back into place and he turned his focus solely on the broken ends. Through the force he could feel the jagged edges of the bones, could feel how they fit together when the bones were whole. He sat there for a moment as he tried to figure out what to do next. From what he remembered from the previous day, he had been able to heal himself some by putting pressure against his ribs and broken nose. He was sure he could do the same thing with his ribs, but he was not sure exactly how to go about doing it. If he used too much pressure, he was afraid he would either break his ribs worse by sending the broken ribs into his lung or causing them to poke through his skin.

 

_But maybe if I put pressure on both sides I’ll be able to heal them without worrying about the bones stabbing some part of me._ A small part of Rathe was worried that by doing that, all he would wind up doing was breaking the jagged edges, but he was less worried about that than he was about puncturing a lung. Concentrating, Rathe carefully began using the force to apply pressure to either side of his bones. At first, the Sith boy could not feel or sense anything happening. Then, white hot pain began shooting through him. The pain was so intense, Rathe’s eyes shot open, and he could barely hold back the gasp that tried to claw its way out of his mouth. For a moment, Rathe was terrified he had broken the bones further, and quickly used the force to gently probe the broken bones. What he discovered utterly shocked him. Instead of the jagged edges being broken, they were actually somewhat healed! That was not to say that his ribs were completely solid, no. Instead, the small gap between the jagged edges was even smaller, it was a miniscule difference, but it was a difference none the less. Glancing up at the sun, Rathe determined he had maybe two hours left to fully heal his broken ribs and repair his fractured ribs a bit.

 

Steeling himself, Rathe began putting pressure on his ribs once more. Blinding white hot pain shot through him once more and he began feeling the sensation of his broken bones rubbing against one another, an almost unbearable kind of feeling that almost made him stop. Almost, except for the fact that he could also feel the bones slowly mending through the force. He added more pressure to his ribs in an attempt to make the process go faster, and almost passed out from the sharp increase in pain. Had he not been already seated, he was sure he would have fallen onto the ground. As it was, his eyes shot open and his hands shook as he fought to keep his gasps of pain from sounding anywhere aside from the inside of his own mind. Glancing around, he found that none of the other students had noticed anything. In fact, it seemed like the Instructors had not sensed or seen anything either judging by how they appeared to be engrossed in a quiet conversation in the shade of a building off to the side. His heart rate and his breathing slowly leveled out as he continued looking around the courtyard. All around him, the other students appeared to be consumed by their own healing. Even Mannis, whom Rathe was surprised to see kneeling not too far away from where he had been punished earlier seemed to be in the process of healing his wounds, though Rathe could not see how well he was doing as the other boy was seated facing towards him. Rathe’s eyes were once more drawn towards the darkened patches of sand, stained with Mannis’s blood. Already, the wind was starting to move and spread the darkened granules around. He would imagine that by this time the next day the darkened patch would be almost entirely gone, either blown away by the wind, or covered up by other untouched granules of sand.

 

Taking a deep breath, Rathe slowly closed his eyes once more and continued the healing process where he left off. The entire ordeal was incredibly painful, with Rathe only being able to keep himself from crying out by gritting his teeth, and though the process took less than an hour in total, it felt like an eternity. Earlier, he had wondered how Mannis had been able to keep from crying out for so long, now he knew. It was because he had taught himself how to keep from making a noise while healing his wounds. Rathe half wondered and half hoped that he would be able to either get used to the pain or figure out a way to lessen it when healing himself in the future. He used his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, some of which had been caused not by the heat, but by the pain he had experienced only moments before, grimacing at the thin layer of sand that was left in place of the sweat.

 

Rathe knew he should start the healing process for the rest of his ribs, but instead, he simply sat there for a few minutes. Logically, he knew that repairing the fractures and bruising on the rest of his ribs would be less painful, as he would not have to realign the bones, and yet he still hesitated. Did it make him less of a Sith that he needed to take a moment or two to gather himself? His eyes narrowed and hardened as his own mind provided the answer; yes. Yes, it did mean he was less of a Sith, but as the Instructors had frequently reminded them since their arrival, they were not considered to be _real_ Sith yet. Shaking his head, Rathe began gathering himself in order to finish healing himself as much as he was able to. As predicted, there was some pain as he began healing his fractured ribs, but the pain he experienced was practically muted in comparison to the jarring pain he had felt earlier. It still felt like someone was grinding the bits of broken bone together though.

 

Despite the pain, Rathe found himself rather interested in the different kinds of fractures he could feel through the force. The worst of his fractures, the ones he knew had been caused from direct impact by Kasal’s boots, knees, or practice blade were long fractures that kind of reminded him of spider webs in that they splintered off in numerous lines away from the ‘original’ fracture. He shuddered to think how difficult it would be to try to heal the bone if the various fractures had gone all the way through the bone causing a separation of the various bits. Not quite as interesting, were the fractures that were incredibly shallow and small and tended to appear further away from the points of impact at the spots where his ribs had reached their flexibility limit. Right in the middle, in terms of interest, were the ones that ran either completely vertical along the bone or ran in a fairly straight but diagonal line across the bone.

The small, shallow fractures, were the easiest ones to heal, as unlike the more complex ones the bone was still in one piece. All those required was him simply putting a little bit of pressure on the bone to straighten it out and the two bits knit back together fairly easily. The multi pieced fractures were less easy as they required him using the force to hold the pieces in place and putting pressure on all of them at the same time. The pain he experienced from healing multiple bits was only slightly less intense than the pain he had experienced when he had attempted to speed up the healing process earlier, but unlike then, he was able to push on despite the growing light headed sensation he felt, as he healed himself.

 

“Alright, that’s enough.” Rathe’s eyes opened as Instructor Akiva suddenly spoke. He felt a deep sense of satisfaction as he rose from his seated positions. For though he had not been able to heal his bruised ribs, he had been successful in healing all of the remaining fractures. It still hurt some to take deep breaths due to the remaining bruising, but he was breathing a bit easier than he had been, and it did not hurt as much to move his arms about.

 

Not wanting to give Akiva any more reason to insult them, the students quickly moved onto the physical training, though there were grimaces on the faces of the new students. Not that Rathe could blame them, after all his muscles were aching and he had painful blister on his hands so he was not looking forward to picking up the metal bars. As he picked the bars up, Rathe could not help but wish that they had been given gloves upon arriving. At least then they would not have to worry about blisters forming. Unlike the previous day, none of the new students attempted to run. Instead, they all remained in a large group as they walked around the perimeter. His already aching muscles wasted no time in protesting the exercise. Causing his entire body to feel like someone was either stabbing him or had lit him on fire.

 

As he rounded a corner, Rathe found his gaze drawn towards the older students in the center of the training area whom were carrying large bags over their shoulders while doing lunges. He could not help but wonder how they could withstand doing that day after day when most of the new students had looked to be on the verge of giving up yesterday. Granted, they were probably used to the physical training due to them being at the training facility longer. But, they had huge bags thrown over their shoulders, which Rathe was fairly certain were filled with sand because of the abundance found around them, while he and the new students only had metal bars that barely weighed anything. He supposed the Instructors probably moved them onto the bags after a year with the bars because the students eventually grew used to the exercise. In all honesty, a part of him was honestly shocked that they even started off on an ‘easier’ exercise in the first place. Though if Rathe were honest with himself, he doubted he could lift a bag that large onto his shoulder. So, maybe giving the new students a less difficult exercise was less about going easy on them, and more about making sure there was not any time wasted when it came to making the students stronger.

 

Still, that did not explain how they could stand to carry the bags over their shoulders without hesitation. From what he had been told before he had arrived, the new training year started on the day Rathe had arrived. This meant that the day before had been the first day the now second year students had used the bags, and yet, Rathe had not seen any of the older students struggle with their task like the students in his year had. It was possible, given what he had witnessed earlier with Mannis, that they were just better at hiding their discomfort, but Rathe did not think that was the case. After all, even the best bluffer would not have been able to hide their discomfort this morning when the lingering exhaustion from sleep should have caused them to lower their guard. But, from what he could remember, only the students in his year had shown any indication they were suffering from the training in addition to their injuries. Wait! That was it! Rathe nearly came to a stop as a light went off in his head. He knew, that when a person trained their muscles actually tore and got stronger by healing. This meant that they probably healed themselves, either at night, like Rathe had meant to do the night before, or during their normal morning meditations, speeding up the healing process. That was why they were not acting like they were in pain! It was because they _weren’t_ in pain due to their muscles having already healed from the abuse they had put them through the prior day. Suddenly, Rathe had another reason to heal himself at night. He wondered if he could speed up the process even more by healing himself while going through the physical training, before quickly dismissing the idea. He had only just figured out how to heal himself, and currently it took a lot of concentration in order for him to heal his ribs. Concentration that he would not be able to manage while he was moving. But perhaps he could figure out how to heal while in motion later on down the road? It was a bit foolish to count on figuring out something that might take years when Rathe did not know if he would survive his first year training. But, the act of planning to do something in the future made some of the weight on his shoulder lessen and gave him a solid goal to look forward to accomplishing, other than the goal of simply surviving another day.

 

As he moved around the courtyard Rathe’s mind began to wander, in part due to the monotonous nature of the walking but mainly in an attempt to ignore the pain starting to radiate through his muscles. With a single goal in mind, a list began to form filled with other goals he wanted to accomplish while at the training facility on Dromund Fels, and at the very top of the list, was beating Kasal. Immediately, amber-gold eyes sought out and found the dark-skinned human who was studiously doing lunges along the inner portion of the training yard. He would beat the human, he _had_ to beat the human. At this point there was a great deal of pride on the line and every time the human beat him his pride took more and more of a blow. But there was also another reason he wanted to beat Kasal, other than pride, it was because, from what he had seen of the students the other day, the human was the best student here. And if he beat Kasal that would then mean that _he_ was the best.

 

Directly behind the goal of beating Kasal was the goal of getting back at Uthyn. He did not know what precisely had happened to cause the Instructor to despise him so, but whatever the reason was the instructor took great delight in seeing him suffer. He also was unsure about how exactly he could get back at Uthyn, but Rathe was confident that he would figure it out. As he lapped the training yard for the tenth time, Rathe’s stomach decided to remind him of the lack of food inside it. As he did his best to ignore his stomach Rathe could not help but wonder if this was the same situation his brother had been in before he had died. For the first time since hearing that his brother had perished, Rathe felt a thread of understanding grow amongst the shame and anger he felt towards his brother for dying.

  
At the bottom of his list of goals, Rathe placed the goal of mastering the ability to heal himself. If he spent his nights as well as the portion of the day reserved for meditation, Rathe knew he would at the least be proficient by the time he left for the next training facility. And as he mastered the ability to manipulate the force to heal himself, he believed, or rather hoped, it would lead him to be able to use the force in other ways. If he were able to manipulate the force inward, it could not be too difficult to use it on something outside himself. Specifically Kasal. Amber-yellow eyes glazed over as Rathe lost himself in thoughts of the varied ways he would destroy Kasal using the force. He had read in his books at the Kaas Institute a skilled force user could throw, lift, and otherwise manipulate their adversaries.  A grin appeared on his face as he imagined himself literally pulling Kasal apart limb by limb. Or dropping the dark-skinned boy into a ravine. Or slowly strangling the other boy by gradually cutting off his airflow. Or holding Kasal immobile while beasts tore him apart. Rathe’s thoughts grew darker and darker as he allowed his anger and frustration from the past few days to fuel them. For a moment, the heat of the midday sun seemed to lessen, almost as if Rathe had stepped into a shadow of some kind. Shaking it off as having merely been absorbed in his thoughts, he continued on, casting the strange sensation from his mind.


	8. Healing Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rathe further explores the uses for the Force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone!
> 
> A/N: As always a huge thanks to my betas!

The sun was halfway between the sky's zenith and the horizon when the instructors told them they could stop. With limbs that felt like jelly, Rathe placed the metal rods back where they belonged. He nodded at Saril and Seki joining them in line for the water, though none of them spoke. Rathe frowned as he tried to figure out if his new allies were simply tired or thinking about what had happened earlier with Mannis but he had not known them long enough to know how their minds worked yet. With a faint shrug, Rathe turned away from his allies, he would come to understand how they thought eventually. He tilted his head to the side as he suddenly realized something, all the fair skinned students in his class were sporting painful looking sunburns. It had not occurred to him that the sun would cause any problem for the other than simply causing the temperature to shoot up during the day. Now that he thought about it, almost all the older human students had tanned or darker skin tones. The few who did not were only a few shades darker than their younger counterparts.  _And their older counterpart._  He thought as his eyes darted to Instructor Trevin who, presumably because of spending most of his time in the shade of the buildings, still sported a pale skin tone.

Aside from the sunburnt humans, most of the other students did not seem to be suffering too badly from the effects of the sun. Unsurprisingly, the Zabrak, Rattataki, and some of the Twi'lek children, presumably the ones from Ryloth or some other dry, arid, world, were less affected by the sun.  _Some_ of the pureblood Sith students, on the other hand, specifically the ones with pink or other light skin tones appeared to be suffering from some discomfort. Rathe himself was not experiencing any discomfort, aside his sweat drenched clothing sticking to his body. He was more than a little relieved to see that Saril was only affected a little bit by the sun, from what he knew of the Chiss homeworld it was a frozen waste, so he would not have to worry about either of his allies possibly having negative reactions from the sun.

Rathe was drawn from his musings about the sun and how it affected students from different races differently as suddenly he realized he was at the front of the line and standing right in front of him was Instructor Uthyn. The sun must have been affecting him more than he thought, for Rathe stood there for a moment blinking up at the larger human. Luckily he was able to recognize what Uthyn was doing when he began to simultaneously extend and turn his hand with a smirk on his face. Snatching the cup out of the instructor's larger hand, Rathe downed the water, and scurried away as an enraged Uthyn took a step forward.

"Uthyn, stop!" Instructor Akiva snapped, successfully halting the larger instructor's advance. "We don't have time to wait while you chase after him." Though Rathe knew her actions were more to make sure they stayed on schedule rather than any kind of protection, Rathe still felt a shred of gratitude towards the Twi'lek woman. The large human leveled a glare at Akiva, but despite his visible anger, did as she asked. Not wanting to move back into Uthyn's reach, Rathe tossed his cup at the table. It hit the metallic surface with a dull thunk, bounced once but didn't fall to the ground.

"That was not the smartest thing to do." Saril said as the three allies regrouped off to the side. "He'll now dislike you even more for embarrassing him in front of everyone.

"Probably." Rathe agreed, glancing back at Uthyn who sported a surly look upon his face.

Both Saril and Seki were shaking their heads when he turned his attention back to them. "Its not a good idea to tug on the Vornskr's tail." Seki nodded towards Uthyn. "Especially one who has already decided to make you its meal."

"So I should just let him get away with making my life miserable because doing anything else will make everything worse?" Rathe asked incredulous. "He's made it clear from day one he doesn't like me, and passively allowing him to get away with screwing with me won't do anything to help the situation." He held up a hand when Seki moved to say something. "I  _know_  that doing anything  _but_  allow him to mock me or dump my water upon the ground will only make things worse. But doing nothing won't make things easier for me. All it will do is make the other students think I'm weak or easily pushed around." Saril had a look of faint approval upon his face while Seki appeared torn between a look of understanding and apprehension.

Their discussion was interrupted by Instructor Trevin speaking. "And now we move on to the part of the day which I'm sure you all have been looking forward to all day; your daily sparring matches." Though Trevin's voice had a hint of irony, Rathe thought most of the children  _had_  been looking forward to their daily sparring match, as these sparring matches were now becoming synonymous with food.

Upon entering the arena, Rathe was unsurprised when his and Kasal's names were the first names called. Despite his best efforts, Rathe was once again beaten by the older boy, though at this point no one was surprised by that outcome. Even Saril and Seki, who were sympathetic, appeared completely unsurprised by his loss. Unlike the previous day, neither offered any platitudes or consolations. This was fine with him as he was more concerned with starting to heal himself. Most of the injuries he had healed earlier had reappeared. Rathe was rather annoyed that he would have to once again heal fractured and broken ribs, but he also recognized that he would have to get used to doing it. Accompanying his injured ribs, was a badly sprained wrist he had received when Kasal had swept his feet out from under him. He felt a morbid sense of excitement, as he looked upon his wrist, since he'd now be healing a new type of injury.

Since his wrist was causing him more than a bit of discomfort, and it would allow him to figure out how to heal a new type of injury, Rathe decided to start the healing process with it. Leaning against the wall, the Sith boy closed his eyes as he mentally reached out for the force, an action that was becoming much easier each time he did it. What he found when he focused the force deep into his injured wrist, was quite interesting in a very morbid way. A number of the ligaments for his wrist had actually been torn away from the bone. That certainly explained why he was unable to bend or move his wrist and yet at the same time, his wrist felt oddly loose. Grabbing the torn ends of the ligaments, Rathe was overcome by pain shooting through the entire length of his arm and across the right side of his body. Jerking back against the wall, a pained gasp emerged from the Sith boy's mouth before he could catch it, garnering looks from Seki and Saril.

"Touched my wrist wrong." He offered, his cheeks darkening in embarrassment. Both glanced at his wrist before glancing at each other, giving him knowing looks before turning their attention back to the current fight. The Sith boy felt slightly embarrassed at having his allies figure him out so quickly, but he consoled himself the recognizing that  _they_  would see him taking extra time to heal himself as proof of his initiative, a good counter to the daily beating his image took at the hands of Kasal.

Turning his attention back to the damaged ligaments, Rathe mulled over how he should approach the situation. He'd expected some pain considering the amount he'd felt while healing his bones, but he'd been surprised by the magnitude of the pain. Granted bones weren't as sensitive as the 'threads' of tissue that connected his bones to each other, but if even  _touching_  the ligaments caused pain, the healing process would be nearly unbearable.  _Unless of course I proceed slowly._  Rathe didn't like the thought of taking his time, preferring to get the job over with as quickly as possible, but if it was the only way he could do it, he was willing to put up with the annoyance.

Gathering himself, Rathe began the process once more, this time applying far less pressure with the force as he grabbed a single ligament thread. This time, instead of lightning shooting through him, it felt more like sparks, still painful but the pain was almost muffled. The process of moving the ligaments was a long one consisting of many pauses as Rathe took multiple breaks to wait for the pain to die down. These breaks were made bearable by him using the time to observe the sparring matches going on, with the breaks coinciding with Saril and Seki's matches being the longest. He felt less concerned about either seeing him as a weak ally as both of them went on to lose their own matches.

Despite moving as slowly and gently as possible, Rathe still found himself biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, while using the force to stimulate the healing of the ligaments, the lightning he'd felt earlier turning into molten lava flowing from his wrist. Thankfully, the threads were tiny enough that the healing process was over much quicker than the healing process for his bones. Unfortunately, because he was forced to heal them one at a time and take numerous breaks, he was only just able to fully heal the ligaments and reattach them to the bones by the time the last match was over. He carefully probed his wrist as they exited the arena building, marveling at how different his wrist felt. It still hurt, which led him to believe the bones of his wrist were still broken, but there was no longer that strange loose feeling he'd felt before.

Arriving back at his room, Rathe waited long enough to respond to the room check/roll call before turning his attention back towards healing himself. Returning his attention back to his wrist, Rathe focused on the bones surrounding the ligaments he'd just finished healing, with a bit of probing via the force, he was able to 'see' that 5 out of the eight small bones that made up his wrist had been fractured. Though he had already healed fractures, Rathe was hesitant while healing as he didn't know how much pressure these tiny bones could withstand. Once he figured out what he figured was the maximum amount of pressure that could be used, the process went by much quicker.

As he moved from healing his wrist to healing his ribs, Rathe wondered if he could heal multiple bones at once. He'd previously discovered he could put pressure against the bone from multiple angles, could he do the same to multiple bones? Though it was a bit awkward figuring out how to divide his attention between two objects, he was eventually able to figure it out, though the increased pain from healing or maneuvering two bones at once made it difficult to concentrate. Moving on, he switched from two bones close to each other to two that were further apart, to see if he could heal more than one object regardless of distance. Confirming that he could, Rathe used the two new discoveries to speed up the healing process.

Rathe opened his eyes, staring at the far wall of his room as the last of his ribs were healed. He was panting slightly from pain, covered in sweat, and utterly exhausted. He wasn't sure if he'd used more energy whilst healing than he'd used the day before, or if the exhaustion simply came from him having two healing sessions on top of the grueling physical training. Whatever the case was, he could barely keep his eyes open. As his eyelashes fluttered, Rathe found himself torn between what he should do. Yes, he could give into his body's needs and allow himself to fall asleep, and experience a relatively pain free slumber. Or, he could force himself to stay awake and attempt to heal the remaining source of pain and discomfort; his muscles. The decision was made for him when one moment he was leaning against the wall, and the next, he found himself laying on his side, having nodded off and fallen to the side. Stifling a yawn, Rathe moved to his bed, instantly falling asleep.

All too soon, Rathe was awoken by Trevin's sonic whistle. Feeling incredibly groggy, the Sith boy exited his room rubbing his eyes, wondering exactly how much time he'd spent healing himself the night before to make him feel  _this_  tired.

"I see your wrist is better."

Rathe blinked sleepily, looking up at Saril. His eyes moved from the Chiss boy, to the hand he'd been using to rub his eye. The hand attached to the wrist he'd healed the night before. "Yeah. I healed it while everyone was sparring." He replied, awake enough to know to keep his voice low enough for just Saril and Seki to hear.

"I probably should have done that." Seki grumbled, rubbing her shoulder with a grimace. Rathe refrained from commenting. He knew he would need the extra healing time at night as for the foreseeable future, he would be fighting, and be injured by, Kasal. As of yet, neither of his allies seemed to use any time aside from the allotted healing time in the morning, to heal themselves. So, if Seki didn't think she needed the extra healing, despite her shoulder having been almost dislocated the night before, then he wouldn't argue with her. He resolved to comment on it, if he came to believe his allies were allowing too many injuries to carry over from one day to the next, and put the matter to bed.

By the time Rathe got his morning drink of water, he was feeling more awake, and when the cold water entered his system, he awakened even more. Though as his stomach started growling, he half wished he could have remained in his exhausted state a bit longer, if only to have a moment's relief from the constant hunger he felt. Returning the cup, Rathe's mind flashed back to the previous day, to when he'd stolen the drink of water from Uthyn. He wondered how or if the large instructor would make him pay for it today. If Uthyn's previous actions were anything to go on, Rathe figured he'd immediately dump his second daily allotment of water. Once again, Rathe wondered if his actions the previous day had been a good idea, but once again came to the conclusion that yes they had been. If only to prevent himself from looking like a doormat.

As the last student returned their cup, Instructor Akiva began her daily routine of pointing out the injuries various students had. Rathe straightened slightly when her gaze landed on him for a moment, it was hard to read anything aside from malice in her expression, so he couldn't tell what she was thinking as her eyes moved from him to a Zabrak girl next to him. For a moment, Rathe wished he knew what had been going on in her mind when she'd regarded him and realized he'd healed himself, before realizing Instructor Akiva's mind was probably a terrifying place to be.

He was shocked when, towards the end of her scathing commentary, the Instructor called out a student whom Rathe pinned as being at least a third year student. Most of the older students tended to be the victors of their fights, as they tended to be pitted against younger opponents, but whenever one was pitted against a peer or someone from a year above them, the loser, no matter how severe the injuries, had always been rid of their injuries the following day. How badly had the third year been injured that he hadn't been capable of healing himself? Rathe was vaguely annoyed with himself for not knowing if the student still being injured was on account of the severeness of the injuries or lack of skill on the part of the injured student, but seeing as how Kasal was his permanent sparring partner the information was useless to him anyhow.

Soon enough, Akiva was done and the students were allowed to move onto the meditation area. Taking a seat and directing the force towards himself, Rathe took a moment to examine his bones, making absolutely sure he'd healed everything the night before. Occasionally coming across a tiny hairline fracture he'd missed due to exhaustion, that he promptly healed. Once he was sure everything was fully healed, and in the right place, Rathe moved onto his newest task; healing his muscles. Pulling his 'view' back, the Sith boy was greeted with the image of his muscular structure.

From his current view, his muscles looked like thick, solid, slabs of meat that were bisected by ligaments. On closer examination, though, he could see and feel that some of the muscles had different consistencies to them. The muscles that were attached to or surrounded his bones did feel exactly as he'd though; like slabs of meat he'd eaten in the past, though they were far thicker than any steak he'd ever eaten. The muscles that surrounded his stomach, intestines, and other similar organs looked similar to the skeletal ones, but they were incredibly flexible to the point of almost being as bouncy as a spring. Considering the organs they surrounded, their flexibility made sense as they needed to be able to expand and contract as they filled with food or water. The last group of muscles that had their own unique look and feel to them, were the muscles surrounding his heart. These muscles, upon being touched, revealed themselves to feel nearly as thick as his bones did. Rathe took a few moments to watch his heart beat, utterly fascinated by how the organ was able to perform its job without any input from him at all. He made a mental note to do a more thorough examination of his organs at another time so he could know what his heart and other organs looked like when functioning normally, to be able to better identify any kind of problem with them quickly.

Moving onto the task at hand, Rathe directed his attention to the muscles in his legs. From how they ached, he expected the muscles to look like they'd been torn apart by a knife or some other blade. Instead, there was nothing. They merely looked like the rest of his muscles, solid and healthy. It was only when he moved his gaze closer and the tissue of his muscles looked like string or twine wrapped together that he saw what was causing the pain he'd been feeling. All along these strings of tissue were tiny little tears, giving them almost a shredded look. At first, Rathe was concerned that there was actually a problem, and that he'd actually injured himself, but calmed when he found tears in the muscles of his arms and abdomen.

Because of his previous experiences with healing, he expected a great amount of pain to accompany the act of simply touching the injured areas with the force. If there was any pain, Rathe couldn't differentiate it from the throbbing pain already coming from his limbs. Encouraged, he began quickly healing the tears in his leg muscles, feeling exuberant when inch by inch the pain diminished in his legs until finally it was gone. Repeating the same process on the rest of his muscles, Rathe was soon free of pain.

Opening his eyes, Rathe was tempted to jump up and start moving about, but refrained from doing so as he'd be moving about that all too soon anyway, and the other students were still in the midst of healing themselves. So, Rathe took a moment to do something he hadn't been able to since he'd arrived; nothing. He just sat there, silently staring at the ground in front of him. It was nice to not have to think about anything for a short while. The novelty of being able to do nothing quickly went away as Rathe realized just how boring it was to do nothing. As strange as it sounded, a part of him almost wished he hadn't done as good of a of healing himself the night before, if only so he could have spent more time sleeping and given himself something to do right at that moment. Perhaps that was why the older students didn't fully heal themselves during the night? Because they'd stumbled upon the problem he was currently facing.

Utterly bored Rathe began thinking up ways to keep himself occupied. First, he turned his attention to the blisters that had formed on his hands and feet over the course of the past two days. He hadn't done anything to them as although they were annoying, they hadn't been as big of an issue as his actually injuries had been. In contrast to his previous healing attempts, during this one, Rathe kept his eyes open. Watching in fascination as the liquid filled bumps on the palms of his hands and fingers drained of liquid before slowly shrinking and disappearing. Although he couldn't see the ones on the soles of his feet and ankles, he imagined that they were doing the same. Carefully prodding the palms of his hands, Rathe was amazed by how smooth they were.

His admiration of his now blister free hands was cut short when Instructor Trevin called an end to that day's meditation session. Standing, the Sith boy joined Saril and Seki, marveling once more at the lack of pain in his legs as he walked. All too soon though, his muscles began aching as he completed circuit after circuit around the area. By the time the exercise session was called to an end, Rathe's muscles ached as badly as they had before he'd healed them. The Sith boy felt a bit annoyed at how it seemed like healing himself didn't really matter, but recognized that the healing would show improvement in the long term rather than the short.

As the number of students between him and Uthyn shortened, Rathe began to get nervous. He knew the large human remembered how his attempt at amusement had been foiled the day before, and was unsure what he would do as payback. Seeing as how Uthyn had backed himself into a corner in terms of how he could get revenge of Rathe, his schitck of permanently pitting Rathe against Kasal kept him from using the sparring matches as punishment, left very few opportunities for embarrassing Rathe. When he reached the front of the line, Rathe felt a tad relieved when all Uthyn did was dump the cup of water onto the ground with little fanfare. Rathe had been half convinced Uthyn would have slipped something into the water, but even though the other two instructors seemed to show very little concern over Uthyn's treatment of him, Rathe had a feeling they'd draw the line at outright poisoning him. At least, he hoped they'd draw the line at that.

The now daily sparring match between Rathe and Kasal ended the same way it always did, with the human standing victoriously over Rathe. The Sith boy returned to the crowd of students prodding at the spot where a tooth had resided in his mouth before the blond human had knocked it out. Luckily, it had been a baby tooth as Rathe did not look forward to figuring out how to heal a tooth, let alone having to spend time looking for said tooth. As the taste of copper filled his mouth, Rathe began the cycle of healing, injury, and healing he'd created for himself.

 


	9. Self Sufficiency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rathe is able to solve one of the issues plaguing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An early Christmas present to myself and everyone who has been reading this.
> 
> As always, huge thanks to my betas for doing their thing :D

As the days without food turned into over a week without food, Rathe’s hunger grew until it became a constant ache emanating from his, now quite visible, ribs. Initially, he had thought the meager amounts of water might take the edge off a little, but the cool liquid did little to fix the situation. In the face of this continuingly alarming development, Rathe grew more and more desperate in his attempts to defeat Kasal, sacrificing any kind of defense, or even strategy, in favor of all out attacking Kasal from the start of their matches. Of course, all this did was cause Rathe to leave the arena with more and more injuries faster and faster.

On the morning of twelfth day without food, the Sith Pureblood woke and immediately became alarmed by the new, and incredibly frightening development, he could no longer feel any kind of discomfort or pain from his stomach. Cold sweat broke out over his entire body, which not even the immense heat could counteract. Though he did not know for certain, Rathe got the distinct impression that he was reaching the point of no return. He needed to eat something or else he would perish. The chilling grip of fear that encircled his mind at this realization did what nothing else had been able to do for the past few days; broke through the haze of anger and desperation and allowed him to think and plan.

As Rathe began his daily meditation, he finally began to accept something he had purposefully ignored; he would never beat Kasal. At least not in his current shape he would not. So, he needed to figure out another way to get his hands on the ration bars the instructors handed out. From what he had observed, none of the Instructors had ever left Dromund Fels, due to the cramped space of the facility all of the students would hear if a ship landed or took off from the small landing strip to the southeast of the training area. This meant that the rations were stored somewhere on the planet. The only question was where?

Using the physical training to his advantage, Rathe observed the buildings that surrounded the area. As of yet, there were only four buildings that he knew were used for anything; the student dorms, the Instructors dorms, the building that housed the area, and the spaceport. That left the remaining twelve buildings a complete mystery to him. He spent a few moments contemplating each building, trying to see if there was anything that stood out about them, but could see nothing except that all twelve appeared to be in worse shape than the student dorms were. Of course, that was not saying much since only the dorms for the instructors, landing pad, and arena were the only buildings that appeared to be maintained.

‘I guess I have no other choice then.’ Rathe thought to himself with a sigh. He would need to physically search the buildings, and the only time he would be able to do that would be at night. The time he normally reserved for healing himself. A part of him was loathe to give up the precious time he reserved for his nightly meditation for anything else, but the rest of him realized that he had no other choice.

By the end of the day, the plan Rathe had thought solid, became a source of disappointment and frustration thanks to a delay brought on by a broken arm. Cursing Kasal and his entire family, Rathe spent the remaining time in the arena and a small portion of time in his room, realigning the bits of bone, fusing the bones together, and repairing the muscle and tendons damaged by the impact of the dark-skinned boy’s boot. Once his arm was whole again, Rathe gave his wrist a cursory look, making sure it too had not been injured when Kasal had wrenched his hand back towards his boot, subsequently breaking his arm.

Satisfied that his hand was fine and his most severe injury had been healed, Rathe rose from his seated position on the stone floor of his room only to freeze at the sound of a door opening from out in the hall. During the day the noise would have gone unnoticed, but in the dead of night, the creak of the door sounded like blaster fire. Either someone else had had the same idea as him, or they had reached their limit and were going to try to follow Mannis’ example and test their odds outside. If it were the later, they could go jump off a cliff for all Rathe cared, but if it were the former... Rathe padded over to his door as footsteps sounded from out in the hallway. He scoffed faintly as whomever it was out in the hall paused multiple times, waiting to see if there would be a reaction to the noise they were making. The mystery student’s unasked question was answered when from another point in the hall the creak of another door opening was heard.

“Well, well, what have we here?” An unfamiliar voice asked.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Rathe pushed open his door just enough so he could peer out into the hallway. A little ways down from his own room, stood a green skinned Twi'lek boy from his own year, and an older red skinned Zabrak boy.

“Thinking of running away?” The Zabrak boy asked with a sneer, his facial tattoos enhancing the look of disgust upon his face.

“No! I’d never run!”

“Really? Well, then what else are you doing out here, in this hallway, in the middle of the night?”

“What’s all this ruckus?” Another boy, this time a human, emerged from his room. He regarded the other two boys with a raised eyebrow and arms folded over his chest.

“Ah, Zhane.” The Zabrak boy grinned at the human one. “I found this younger student in the process of running away.”

“I told you I wasn’t running!” The Twi’lek boy snapped, looking very uncertain as he looked between the two older boys.

“Then, I again ask you, what are you doing out here?” The red skinned boy asked once more.

“I was... I was hungry.” The Twi’lek boy shifted faintly in embarrassment at having to admit his reason for sneaking about.

“Oh! You were hungry!” Zhane exclaimed dramatically as the Zabrak boy snickered. “You know what, Darex?”

“Know what?” The newly named Zabrak boy asked, grinning.

“I can’t stand cowards.”

“Oh I can’t stand them either.”

“But there’s one type of person whom I hate even more than cowards.” The green skinned boy they were smirking at seemed to realize he wouldn’t like where the conversation was going, and started backing away.

“Oh really? Who are they?”

A sinister grin appeared upon the human’s face as he and Darex advanced upon the Twi’lek boy. “Weaklings!”

Rathe closed his door as the sounds of fists hitting flesh and cries of pain filled the hallway. His brow furrowed as he processed the information he’d just learned. Apparently, even if a student was able to avoid the Instructors while sneaking about at night, for whatever reason, they would still be punished if their fellow students found out about it. Rathe bit back a groan of frustration as he realized his only means of leaving the dormitory was now off limits thanks to over a hundred obstacles labelled as his fellow students. If he were better at sneaking about silently, Rathe might have considered taking a shot at it, but he knew his attempt at sneaking would be about as successful as the Twi’lek boy’s attempt had been.

The Sith boy spent the next few moments glaring at his door while the fight outside continued. ' _I need to think._ ' Rathe admonished himself with a shake of his head as a particularly loud cry of pain sounded from the hall. Turning away from the door, Rathe ran a hand over his chin in thought. If he couldn’t go out through the front door, then he’d need to figure out another way of getting outside. He nearly smacked his head in anger as, upon looking at his hole filled wall, he realized exactly how he could exit the dorm without using the door. He could exit through the wall! Why hadn’t he thought of that before? ' _Because you had assumed that leaving the dorm would be easy._ ' His mind supplied, sounding suspiciously like his father, as he moved towards the back wall of his room.

Carefully examining the wall, Rathe realized that none of the holes were larger than his fist. However, after mulling the situation over for a bit, he realized the mortar holding the stone in place could probably be removed with his fingers. A task he thought would be fairly easy since there were already cracks and holes in the mortar. But as the Sith boy began attempting to do it, he quickly found that all he really accomplished was tearing his nails and losing feeling in his fingertips. There were a few bits he was able to remove fairly easily, but they were already mostly broken off.

Fingertips tingling and bleeding, Rathe stepped back from the wall of stone with a scowl. If only he had a tool he could use or had something harder than his fingers he knew he could easily succeed in removing the mortar, but unfortunately none of the bits of stone strewn about his room were very large, roughly the length of the first joint of his index finger, and easily broke when rubbed against the mortar.

Growing increasingly frustrated as each attempt was thwarted, and becoming more than a little desperate, Rathe attempted to turn himself into a ram by slamming his shoulder against the stones multiple times. resulting in him hurting his shoulder. Falling to his knees Rathe rested his forehead against the wall as he began mentally cursing the wall for being so difficult to get through; the other students for being little more than vicious animals who actively worked to keep other students from succeeding; the Instructors for coming up with the stupid rule of only feeding them once per day; Uthyn for constantly pitting him against Kasal, the entire Empire for forcing him to be here in the first place; his father for not preparing him properly; and himself for not being able to figure out how to accomplish something as simple as being able to keep himself fed. As he cursed everything and everyone he could think of, Rathe pounded a fist against the wall in anger, resting it against the stone as his mental tirade tapered off.

Rathe sucked in a ragged breath as his shoulders slumped and despair began to fill him. He was going to wind up like his brother; a dead disgrace all because the one person he needed to defeat in order to eat was stronger than him. Rathe slammed his hand, open palmed, against the wall as angry tears began welling in his eyes at the unfairness of it all. Choking back sobs of despair, he struck the wall a second time, this time resting his hands upon the wall. After a minute, he began to calm down, and as his mind cleared, his brain began to register that there was something different about the wall.

At first, Rathe just stared unable to see anything different, but as he began to run his hands along the wall, he realized that the section of the wall he’d struck moments before was slightly further back than the bricks surrounding it. Looking from his hands to the bricks and back again, the Pureblood decided to take a chance, and struck the bricks once more, this time putting a bit more effort into it. Rathe’s eyes involuntarily widened as he felt the stones shift slightly. It was only a slight change, but in comparison to the rest of the wall, which was completely straight and uniform, it stuck out like a sore thumb. Feeling energized once more, Rathe began striking the moved stone and the one next to it with his hands. He quickly realized that if he knelt upon the floor and put extra force behind his blows by rocking back and forth, he could move the stones further, faster. Once the first two stones had been knocked out and he could see the darkened buildings next to the dormitory, Rathe became even more encouraged that his plan could actually succeed.

He wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d spent knocking stones out of his wall until he had a hole that was just big enough for him to squeeze through, but the sky outside was still dark, and the beating that had been going on outside had stopped. Rathe shook his hands slightly as he sat back, admiring his work, a genuine smile appeared on his face as joy and excitement filled him at the knowledge he had actually accomplished something with his own two hands. Squeezing through the hole was fairly easy, though the edges of the remaining stones scraped against his skin, and within a matter of seconds Rathe found himself standing outside. For a moment, the Sith boy was so overcome with exuberance that he almost gave a shout of joy. But, the moment the impulse hit him; Rathe immediately squashed it as he did not want to find out what the other students would do if they found him _outside_ the dorms.

Looking around, Rathe was struck by just how bright the moonlight was and how the shadows enshrining the complex made it look far more menacing than it did during the day. The hair on the back of his neck rose, not entirely because of the cold, as he began making his way towards the two abandoned buildings located behind the dormitory. He could admit, if only to himself, that he was very apprehensive about entering the buildings. Hell, he half expected one of the Instructors to suddenly appear out of thin air as he squeezed through the broken door of the closest building.

Moonlight shone through holes in the ceiling and walls, illuminating his desperate search for the rations, as room after room turned up empty. Rathe’s frustration increased until he was all but running through the hallways and the last few rooms that, after cursory glances turned up nothing. Hurrying from the abandoned building to the next, Rathe found of the same; empty vacant rooms and hallways littered with bits of stone and sand. Building after building he searched, growing more frantic with each passing second, until all of the abandoned buildings surrounding the dorm had been searched.

Glancing at the horizon as he exited the latest building, Rathe realized the sky was already beginning to lighten; he had run out of time. Stomach grumbling, he made his way back to his room, carefully returning all of the bricks to their rightful place and tried to get some sleep, once again completely ignoring his empty stomach. He may have fallen asleep, but seemingly seconds after his body hit the mattress the morning ‘alarm’ rang through the air. If Rathe had been able to, he would have given everything in order to speed up time so he could resume his search. Instead, he tried to keep from being too obvious about staring at the few buildings he had not been able to search, but judging by Saril’s raised eyebrow and Seki’s questioning looks, he failed to keep his interest hidden.

Unlike the previous few days, Rathe found it incredibly difficult to muster up any attempt at putting up a fight against Kasal. His limbs felt like they were filled with lead and overall he felt incredibly lethargic. The taste of copper filled his mouth as he made his way to the side of the ring, a mixture of relief and disbelief coursing through him. Though he was happy the match was over, he could not believe how quick the match had been, nor could he believe how few injuries he had received, the most severe of which was his bitten tongue. He comforted himself with the fact that now he wouldn’t need to use any portion of the night to heal himself, and could instead use all of it to search the remaining buildings. The feeling of comfort turned into self-loathing as he caught sight of Uthyn’s all too pleased expression, and the looks of pity Seki and Saril were giving him, and realized that to everyone else it looked like he had given up and resigned himself to not beating Kasal. His realization lit a fire within him, clearing away the exhaustion that had been plaguing him all day and renewed his drive to survive.  

As the students returned to the dormitory, Rathe found himself almost impatient as he waited for the students to situate themselves in their rooms and for the Instructors to leave the building altogether. Leaving the dorm while the sun was still out would be the surest way for him to get caught, and yet Rathe was half tempted to do just that. Instead, he anxiously drummed his fingers against his knee as he waited for the sun to completely dip below the horizon. After what felt like an eternity, the sun finally set and Rathe began quickly recreating the hole from the night before. His hands shook as he pulled brick after brick from the wall, if it was from hunger or excitement he honestly couldn’t tell.

Finding himself outside once more, Rathe quickly scurried towards the building situated between the physical entrance to the facility and the Instructors’ dormitory. Though he was rather uneasy about searching a building so close to where the Instructors slept, Rathe had come to the realization during the day that he would have to do it eventually since there were only so many building on the property. As he entered the building, Rathe had a random thought pop into his head; what if the rations were stored in one of the two dormitories? Ugly laughter bubbled up his throat and out his mouth before he was able to cut it off. ' _It would be just like them to do something like that._ ' He thought, as he covered his mouth with his hands, stifling himself. Fearing that the noise, even when muffled, would draw undue attention, Rathe slipped into the nearest room which, surprisingly, turned up empty, and stayed in there until the laughter subsided. Having gotten himself under control once more, and feeling a good deal more relaxed, Rathe emerged from the room and continued his search.

Three-fourths of the way through the building, the red skinned boy turned down one of the remaining hallways and came to an abrupt stop. At the end of the hallway, he could see a door. Normally, he wouldn’t have thought anything of the door, if it weren’t for the fact that unlike the doors to the rooms on either side of the hall leading up to it, this specific door was whole and appeared to have been recently installed. His feet felt like they’d been welded to the floor as he gaped at the door in shock. Had he found where the rations were stored? Part of him remained unconvinced that he’d been able to find the storage that easily, but the rest of him knew he’d found something. Slowly, but gradually picking up speed until he was jogging, Rathe made his way towards the door. The exuberance he felt at finally finding the room where the rations were stored, was cut short when he discovered the doors were locked. Logically, it made sense that the doors were locked, the instructors would not risk allowing students easy access if they happened upon the room. At this point, however, Rathe was nearly devoid of logic so being confronted with a locked door only served to anger him.

For a brief moment of insanity, Rathe contemplated breaking the door down. But quickly realized that while it would fix his problem in the short term, it would create a much larger problem in the long term, namely that the instructors were sure to move where they stored the rations and he would have to find them all over again. Looking around, the Sith boy’s mind whirled as he tried to think of another way in. Thinking back, he recalled this building looking like all the others, rectangular in shape without any random walls sticking out from the side. This meant that the room in front of him had to be the entire width of the hallway, and thus the rooms on either side of him would share a wall with the storage room. With a bit of effort, Rathe squeezed through the small hole that was the only opening in the caved in doorway on the room to his right. Righting himself, Rathe examined the wall with a feeling of bitter amusement rising within him as he noted the wall, much like the locked door out in the hallway appeared to have been either recently installed or properly maintained. If he were going to get into the room, it looked like he would have to do the same thing he’d done on the wall to his room. Only, this would take a lot more effort as the mortar on these bricks weren’t brittle or breaking off.

As he turned to exit the room and look for a way in in the other room, a spot on the wall near the ground caught his eye. While the bricks themselves looked exactly like all the others, the entire section they were in looked slightly off. Frowning faintly, Rathe crouched down and pressed his fingers against the particular section as he tried to figure out what looked so off about it. A wave of lightheadedness made him nearly lose his balance, forcing him to brace his hands against the wall to avoid hitting his face against it. Only for that to nearly happen anyway, as the bricks underneath his hands moved.

Eyes widening, Rathe began eagerly pushing against the brick, grinning in excitement as brick after brick moved until a hole large enough for even the older students emerged. ' _Apparently, I am not the only student who looked for the ration_ storage.'The thought made him pause for a moment. Up until now, he had not really thought of other students sneaking out at night. Yes, there had been the unfortunate Twi’lek boy from the night before who had tried and failed, but he had not thought about any of the others successfully sneaking out. Suddenly, Rathe realized that his decision to sneak out this early was likely a bad one as he might run into one of the other students, and they would have no qualms about making sure he got caught. Hurriedly moving through the hole, Rathe found himself face to face with a number of large storage containers. Once again he wondered if maybe the instructors might be playing a cruel joke and had left the containers empty. He began to suspect that could very well be the case as he realized that none of them appeared to be locked. Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst, Rathe opened the closest one to him and nearly dropped the lid to the container in his shock when it opened, revealing the very thing he’d been looking for the previous night. Rations.

The pain in his stomach, that he’d been ignoring for the past six days, intensified as Rathe gazed upon the only source of sustenance the students were given. The same one he’d been denied daily, thanks to that bastard Uthyn and his pet student Kasal. His hands shook, and his mouth watered as he grabbed an entire handful of the dried bars. Placing one of the bars in his mouth, Rathe slipped back through the hole he’d entered through, slowly chewing on the tasteless bar as he rebuilt the wall. Little more than a week ago, he would have turned his nose up at the thought of eating ration bars like these, yet right then they tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten in his entire life. Rathe finished the bar and began eating a second one as he exited the building quickly following it with a third one. The fourth and last ration bar disappeared into his mouth as he slipped back into his room, and suddenly Rathe realized that his stomach felt heavy as though laden down with rocks. ' _Perhaps it would have been a better idea to have only eaten one._ ' The feeling of nausea began building as he gazed at the object he would have killed someone to have the night before.

By the time the wall had been halfway rebuilt, the nauseous feeling had turned into bile creeping up his throat. Yanking the stones back into his room, Rathe forced his way back through the hole, quickly moving as far away from his room as he could, before vomiting up the ration bars he’d just eaten onto the sand. Praying that no one had heard the noise, Rathe covered the vomit with sand and returned to his room. His stomach still churned and he felt like he would vomit again at any second, but Rathe forced himself to eat the remaining ration. Regardless of how sick he might feel, the Sith boy knew he needed to have food in his stomach in order to survive.

As the morning after his discovery proceeded, the nauseous feeling continued to dog him, making him feel sluggish and very aware of how long the day actually was. At three points during the day, Rathe came extremely close to losing the little bit of food in his stomach; the first in the middle of their physical exercise, the second after he’d had his second cup of water, and the final when Kasal’s fist buried itself into his stomach. Each time he swallowed the bile back down his throat, worried the instructors would know exactly what had caused his nausea but none of them, not even Uthyn commented on it. Granted, Rathe doubted Uthyn would have thought anything unusual about the way he’d been acting as, as far as the large instructor was concerned, Rathe was on the verge of starving to death.

As night descended upon the facility once more, Rathe genuinely debated whether or not he should go out again and get another ration bar. Though he knew he needed to continue eating, the lingering feeling of nausea made him seriously consider not going out again and getting another ration bar. In the end, he decided that he would much rather feel sick than not have food in his belly, so once again he made the trek to the ration storage. This time, when he left, Rathe left with only one ration bar in his hands, figuring that if he ate less than the night before, he might not feel sick. Though he continued to feel ill as he ate the bar, the feeling faded and his stomach settled a bit as he swallowed the last bite.

The nauseous feeling cleared away two days later, as Rathe began feeling much more energized. The day his energy returned, Rathe felt incredibly satisfied at seeing Kasal’s green eyes double in size, a look of absolute shock on the other boy’s face, as Rathe fought back with twice as much furor than he’d done in the three days prior. He still lost, of course, but the pain from his injuries, and disappointment at not being able to capitalize on his opponent’s surprise and seize a win, was eased by the look of disbelief on Uthyn’s face.


	10. Hard Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rathe and his fellow students are faced with a harsh reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so everyone understands the timeline it is as follows:  
> 
> 
> * 3667 BBY Rathe’s birth  
> 
> * 3653 BBY Treaty of Coruscant  
> 
> * 3655 BBY this fic  
> 
> * 3642 BBY Events of SWTOR begin
> 
>  
> 
> As always, huge thanks to my betas!

“So, why are the two of you here?”

It had been a little over a month since Rathe had arrived at the training facility. During that time, one question had plagued him; why were Seki and Saril here? Neither the Chiss nor the Rattataki were common amongst the ranks of Sith Warriors. Instead, they were often found within the ranks of the Empire’s foot soldiers. Or agents in the Imperial Intelligence agency. though Rattataki were also found amongst the Sith Inquisitors.

“I thought you did not have a problem with non-purebloods,” Saril said from Rathe’s right, eyebrow raised.

The three had fallen into a routine of running alongside one another. Rathe found it easier to stay focused with the other two running alongside them. He thought they might have felt the same way. Plus, he had the motivation to keep up as it would be noticeable for him to lag behind.

“I don’t.” Truthfully, Rathe was more accepting of the idea now than he had been when he’d first arrived. Being defeated by a human of all things on a regular basis had a tendency to change one’s views on race superiority. “I’m just curious why neither of you went down the typical paths your species go down.” He paused, adjusting his grip on the metal bars. “Especially you Saril, as you seem to be a bit older than the rest of us who only just arrived.”

Seki let out a snort from his left side. “You say you’re fine with non-purebloods, and then you say things like that.”

“To be fair, he does have a point,” Saril said as Rathe opened his mouth to defend himself. “It _is_ rare to see members of our species fight as Warriors.” The Chiss boy gave Rathe a measured look. “How about this, we answer your question, or in my case questions, if you answer a question from both of us?”

“That seems fair.” Seki chimed in.

Rathe considered the proposition for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, why not?” It wasn’t like he was in possession of secret information or anything.

“Excellent. Seki, why don’t you start since you have the least amount to explain?”

“Fine.” Seki narrowed her eyes in annoyance at Saril at being told what to do. “I am the fourth child of six born to the Xyras family, and the third of four to survive so far.” At Rathe and Saril’s curious looks, Seki clarified. “My oldest brother died in battle three years ago and the sister born right after me died of an illness in infancy. As of right now, I am the only girl, though that may change while I am here. Rattataki children learn how to fight from the moment they can walk, with training focused on the military branch of their parents. My brothers and I learned both due to our father being a captain in the Army and our mother a lieutenant in the Navy.

Rathe did his best to ignore the flash of envy her words sparked within him.

“A few years ago, I was recognized as having force potential and I wound up being sent here.” The Rattataki cast a quizzical glance in Saril’s direction. “Do I get to ask him a question now, or do I wait until you’ve finished answering your questions?”

“He may feel like he’s being attacked if asked too many questions at once.” Saril shared a bemused look with Seki. “You know how purebloods can get.”

Rathe scowled at his ally’s mocking tone but held his tongue.

“True,” Seki said with a laugh, her amused expression morphing into a look of thought. Silence enveloped them for the next few minutes as she thought about what to ask. “Why is it, that despite having such a renowned commander for a father you seem to have been sent here knowing only the basics of fighting?”

Rathe was momentarily thrown. He hadn’t known what Seki would ask, but he certainly hadn’t thought she would ask _that._ His lips thinned in anger as he glared at Seki. Though he was sure his rage was easily read on his face, the Rattataki girl didn’t back down nor did she apologize. Instead, she squared her shoulders and seemed prepared to force the answer out of him. Impressed by her boldness and recognizing that he had agreed to answer whatever they asked, Rathe took a moment to gather his thoughts.

“As I’m sure you both know by now, I was not the first son born to Amevar Dresal. That distinction goes to my older brother Joltur. From the time we were children, my brother was always being trained by my father. Any kind of training you could think of, aside from force training, my brother went through. When I was younger, I did not think much of me spending more time with my mother or being left to my own devices rather than training.” The constant anger Rathe felt towards his father had actually started to cool. Ironically, his father’s lack of help had forced Rathe to use his own skills and smarts to survive. “By the time my brother was sent here, I had only begun to be taught how to wield a vibroblade and had minimal skill in hand to hand combat.” Rathe let out a wry chuckle. “Not that my skills are that much better now.”

“It’s hard to gauge skill when you’re constantly pitted against an opponent you aren’t meant to beat.”

Rathe frowned, uncertain if the Chiss boy’s words were meant to be comforting or condemning Rathe’s fighting ability. Choosing to give the other boy the benefit of the doubt, Rathe went with comforting.

“Anyway, with my brother gone, my father set about training me, though now I see that he did so with as little effort as possible. Then, six months after Joltur left, he returned. Only this time instead of moving about on his own, he returned to us in a crate.” Rathe would never forget the interesting combination of fear, rage, and horror on his father's face as he realized his son and heir had failed. “Despite my mother’s protests, my father had the crate and its contents immediately destroyed. I guess to prevent the embarrassment a funeral would have caused.”

At the time, Rathe had not thought much of the situation, but now he wished he had been able to look at his brother’s body. If he’d been able to, he would know exactly what had caused Joltur to die, had he starved to death? Or had something else caused his brother’s downfall? He had to have been subjected to the same treatment Rathe was currently facing at the hands of Uthyn. The thing Rathe couldn’t quite figure out was why it had taken so long for his brother to die.

“Still, it didn’t take long for word to spread that the first child of Amevar Dresal had died a failure. Nor, did it take long for the training sessions with my father to come to an end. I guess his thought was, if the son he’d spent years training had died, then there was no way the son he’d barely trained at all would survive.”

“So, your training stopped roughly six months before you arrived here?” Seki asked head cocked to the side in curiosity.

Rathe shook his head. “No, I continued to train on my own from the time my father stopped training me until the day before I arrived.”

“That certainly explains a lot about you.” Before Rathe could ask her what _that_ meant, Saril began speaking.

“And now it is my turn to answer a question.” Rathe begrudgingly turned away from Seki, letting her comment fade into the background. “I’ll start by answering the question about my physical appearance, as it will shed some light on the answer to why I’m here as well.” Saril momentarily paused as the group moved around another student who was slowing down. “My people, the Chiss, are secluded enough, even from our Sith allies, that few people outside our culture know much about us. So, I am less surprised that the two of you are asking me questions and more surprised it took you almost a month and a half to do so. Though we are similar in looks and physicality to humans, my people have an accelerated growth rate in comparison. Basically, when a Chiss child is ten years old they tend to look like a twenty-year-old human. I, myself, am actually six.”

Rathe nearly tripped over his own feet. Saril was younger than him!? He seemed and acted like he was much older.

“Wait,” Seki chewed on her bottom lip as she processed the new information. “If you’re much larger and stronger than the rest of us, then doesn’t that put you at an advantage?”

“Physically, yes. But I am also in a situation like Rathe here.” Rathe thought Saril’s eyes darted from him and back towards Seki. It was still difficult for him to make out any kind of an iris in the solid red eyes. “Minus the purposeful neglect on my parents’ end. Instead, I do not have the same amount of training as the rest of you. Thanks in large part to my age, and the rigorous schooling my people do through as children.” A small, proud, smile appeared on Saril’s face for a moment, before disappearing. “Last month, while you two were training, I was memorizing the history of the Chiss Expansion Defense Force.”

“Still, if what you say is true, when you’re ten, you’ll be taller and stronger than the rest of us. Won’t that mean you’ll advance through your training much faster than the rest of us?”

Rathe could not help but wonder if he had made a mistake when he had continued associating with Saril. Having an ally twice as tall and strong as everyone would be beneficial to Rathe in the long run. But only if Saril remained close enough to be of use.

“If our training was only training like this,” Saril gestured at the metal poles. “Then yes I suspect I, and other Chiss like me, would get a master the moment we reached adulthood at thirteen. Seeing as how training also consists of using and wielding the force. I will remain in training for the same duration as everyone else.”

“Does physically aging so quick have any negative side effects?” Seki asked, causing Rathe to once again become concerned he had chosen his allies wrong.

“At this point? No. Later on, in life, it will. As few Chiss live past 80 years, but that’s something I won’t have to worry about for a long time.” Saril shrugged, unconcerned with admitting having a shorter lifespan than Rathe or Seki.

“Well then,” Rathe began after a moment. “I believe you had a question for me?”

“Aside from when you arrived here, did you have much interaction with non-Sith?”

Once again, Rathe found himself stunned by his companion’s question. This time, it was more because of just how quick the question had come rather than the question itself.

“Before all this?" A self-deprecating smile appeared on Rathe's face. "My exposure to non-Purebloods and non-humans was as limited quite limited. Aside from the occasional Zabrak or Twi'lek, that is.” Rathe shrugged. “Dromund Kaas isn’t exactly a diverse place to live. Though before the treaty and living on Dromund Kaas, my family lived on Ebonfen Station. In the Bothan Sector.”

“Bothan Sector?” Seki asked eyebrow raised in surprise.

Rathe nodded. “My father’s reward for being one of the survivors and an actual hero during the Battle of Bothawai. Not only was he promoted to the rank of Commander. He received the Enforcer, and tasked with watching, and if necessary, defending Bothawai." He shrugged again. "According to Joltur, the station's populace smugglers and mercenaries from all over the empire. Though I don’t remember living anywhere aside from Dromund Kaas.”

“Interesting,” Saril commented, seeming neither pleased nor disappointed.

Rathe hoped that at some point in the future, he’d be able to get a vague idea of what the other boy was thinking.

“Now, onto the subject of why I am here. As I am sure you can guess, a Chiss being force-sensitive is quite rare. If it had not been for a chance meeting between myself and a Sith Lord, I likely would have entered the academy. As it is, I did run into that Sith Lord, who encouraged my parents to send me to this training facility.”

“Wouldn’t it have made more sense for you to be trained as an Inquisitor?” Rathe asked, brow furrowed in confusion. It hadn’t clicked until just then that the Chiss boy should have been sent to another facility.

“Perhaps, but the Sith Lord in question didn’t exactly give my parents the option to refuse or make an alteration to the request.”

“So, you were conscripted?” Seki asked. “I know some children on Rattatak are after their parents try to skip force training."

Rathe looked back and forth between the two, feeling out of his depth. There were people who did not want their children to receive force training? He couldn’t imagine not wanting to learn how to use ALL the abilities they, or their children, had. Among the Pureblood Sith, it was unheard of for someone to decline to receive training.  Though maybe this was typical amongst races with low numbers of force-sensitive individuals.

“Yes and no,” Saril said, bringing Rathe out of his thoughts. “It is true that my _parents_ did not want me sent here, but _I_ was rather eager to be sent here.”

Seki gave the Chiss boy a confused look. From what Rathe knew of Rattataki, they were incredibly loyal to their families. He assumed she was completely baffled by the idea of going against the family's wishes.

“Though, I would no doubt excel at being an Inquisitor. Academic learning did not interest me beyond what I had learned. And this,” the larger boy gestured at their surroundings. “Offered me a chance to do something new and interesting.”

Seki gave a noncommittal grunt. “If you say so.”

Though Rathe found logic in what Saril was saying, he could not believe _anyone_ would find this kind of training ‘interesting’. Maybe it was a Chiss thing?

“And now, I have one final question for you.” The hairs on the back of Rathe’s neck stood on end as Saril’s voice dropped to a level just above a whisper. Whatever it was the other boy didn’t want anyone else to hear, and that made Rathe uneasy. “How long do you think Zuk has?”

As thrown as Rathe was by the pointedness of Saril and Seki’s previous questions. He was now utterly confused by the randomness of Saril’s new one. “I have been watching him the past few hours, and he does not look well.”

Turning, Rathe looked at the boy in question trailing far behind, weaving to either side. The boy’s normally vibrant red skin appeared pale and sallow. The two facial tentacles hanging down from either side of his mouth looked to be drooping. His eyes appeared to have sunken into his head, giving the area around them a dark shadowed look. Additionally, the other boy’s shirt was almost solid black from sweat.  

“He does look rather rough,” Rathe muttered after a few moment of observation. “But I can’t tell how long he might have.” He wanted to say that he thought his fellow pureblood was doing just fine, but Zuk appeared to be struggling. Quite badly at that. A feeling of contempt welled up within Rathe as he finally tore his eyes away from the other boy. He couldn’t grasp how a fellow Sith was doing so bad when everyone else was doing the exact same thing. The feeling of contempt only grew. Later in the day, he noticed Zuk spill half of his cup of water down his front while guzzling the liquid down. The other boy then proceeded to try to suck the water and sweat from his shirt. Rathe scowled in disgust at the sight. He was quite thirsty too, but he would never lower himself to putting his mouth on his sand covered clothing.

Rathe kept an eye on the other Pureblood until his name was immediately called after Kasal’s. As the dark-skinned human was, once again, declared the winner, Rathe scrambled out of the ring on all fours best he could with his right knee appeared broken. He had long forgotten about Zuk. Now, the slow but steady swelling of his throat, caused by a kick to the side of his neck, took up all his attention. The leaden feeling of dread and fear in the pit of his stomach eased as he used his healing meditation to combat the swelling of his throat and bruising on his neck. By the time Rathe left the arena, he was breathing easily and his kneecap had been mostly repaired.

The next day was mind-numbingly boring, with the same routine continuing uninterrupted until evening. As the students made their way back to the dormitory, however, Rathe was made aware of something out of the ordinary. A foul stench flooded his nose the moment he entered the building. Causing him to simultaneously gag and clap his hand over his mouth and nose. Other first year students did variations of the same, with some dry heaving. The older students appeared unaffected by the smell, aside from wrinkling their noses.

“Keep it moving.” Instructor Akiva barked at the first years that in their initial shock had come to a complete stop.

Despite his curiosity, Rathe knew not to question her actions and did as asked. Though he did linger in his own doorway, peering down the hall. What was the cause of that horrible smell? If the source wasn’t found and removed, Rathe knew he would have no hope of sleep. Judging from how many students lingered in their open doorways as well, he was not the only curious one.Moving quickly, Rathe made his way to Saril’s door after the Instructors had passed it during their check.

“What do you think it is?” He asked, reaching the larger boy at the same time as Seki.

“I have a few theories.” Saril murmured, keeping his eyes affixed to the Human and Twi’lek instructors. The smell seemed to become far worse the further down they went. Rathe could see numerous students using their shirts to block out the smell.

The two instructors were most of the way down the hall when Instructor Trevin came to a complete stop. Waiting for a response to his knock. Rathe’s brows furrowed, he’d never seen either instructor linger outside a student’s room before. Granted, every student responded immediately to the nightly knock on their door. A full thirty seconds passed before the man banged on the door once more. Still receiving no reply, Instructor Trevin entered the room, reemerging a moment later.

“Get a tarp,” He called to Instructor Akiva, disappearing back into the room.

With a snort, the Twi’lek woman turned and stalked back down the hall. The slithering, slimy, feeling of shame curled up in Rathe’s belly as he shrank back against the wall. He feared that she would lash out at him, or pick on him like she did to the students daily. But despite her eyes locking with his for a moment, she did nothing of the sort. A look of amusement seemed to appear as she took in the sight of the first-year students milling about. Rathe shifted from side to side as the awkwardness of the situation struck him. Still, he remained where he stood in the hope of having some light shed on the current situation. Everything about it was a mystery to him. From the cause of the foul, stomach-turning odor, to the older students not even reacting to it.

“Ah, I’d been wondering what had happened to him.” Saril murmured as Instructor Akiva returned carrying a white tarp.

“Him? Him who?” Seki asked, sounding as baffled as Rathe felt.

“Zuk.” Came the grim reply as the two instructors re-emerged holding the tarp on either end. In the middle of the almost hammock-like structure was the limp form of a body.

Time seemed to freeze as the two instructors passed him.  He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the slack yet almost peaceful face of Zuk. Other first years seemed to have fallen under the same spell, as every single one stared at the body as well. It was one thing to know, he had a good chance of dying. It was a completely different thing to witness an example first hand.

As the instructors and their gruesome package disappeared from sight, the smell lessened. Yes, it was still there but it was not as overpowering at it had been a moment before. Rathe’s stomach lurched as he realized the smell had been _caused_ by Zuk’s body. Bending over, he was unable to hold back the powerful dry heaves that coursed through his body, bringing the meager amount of water in his stomach up and out his mouth as every muscle in his body contracted. Tears caused by shame and the burning sensation of stomach acid forcing its way up and out his throat began welling in his eyes as strings of drool and snot began forming. Some dangled down from the corners of his mouth and his nostrils detaching when they grew too long or too thick. Others crept down his lips and chin, forming a thin layer on his chin and neck that grew thicker with each heave. All the while tears streamed unbidden from his eyes. Ashamed of looking so weak in front of everyone, Rathe wished he could hide or turn invisible. Attempts to remove either liquid proved useless as he only managed to smear them across his face. Both were soon replaced as each retch cause more tears and saliva to flow from his eyes and mouth. By the time his retching subsided to the occasional dry heave, Rathe knew he looked like an utter mess.

Hands on his knees with head bowed, the red-skinned boy became aware of the two hands on his back. He jerked forward as if the touch burned, by chance avoiding the puddle of vomit on the ground. His normal bright red skin tone turned a deep scarlet of embarrassment. Saril and Seki had been there the **_entire_** time. Pulling the collar of his shirt up, Rathe scrubbed at his face in a frenzied rage of embarrassment. Rubbing his skin raw as he cleared it of saliva and tears, he searched for something, anything, to say.

“It is alright,” Saril said in a tone one tended to reserve for a scared or wounded animal.

Rathe felt the flame of anger consume his mind as he recognized the tone and turned to glare at the larger boy.

Saril seemed to ignore at the harsh glare sent his way. “You are not the only one to find the realization of mortality," he paused. "Or in your case the reconfirmation or your mortality, a sickening prospect.” Using his head, the Chiss boy gestured down the hallway.

Blinking, Rathe suddenly became aware of the sounds of retching throughout the hall. Looking about, he could see a few of his fellow first years emptying their stomachs. Though most had managed to keep the contents of their stomachs where they belong. All looked queasy or distressed at the realization they could be carted out like Zuk.

“Why do you look so calm?” Rathe asked, voice rough, as he turned back towards Saril. Seki, at least, looked a bit ill, but the Chiss boy looked completely unfazed. Except for a bit of tightness around the eyes.

“My people are taught how to keep our emotions in check at a young age. This is the main reason you Sith use my people as intelligence agents as we are not as affected by anger or fear.” Saril shrugged. “Plus, as part of my learning, I learned anatomy by dissecting cadavers.”

Perhaps if he had been a Jedi, Rathe would find the idea of children cutting open corpses horrifying. Instead, his only feeling was of curiosity. “Is that how you know where to hit?” The only response he got was the faint upturning of the corner of Saril’s mouth.

“All right, show’s over. Back to your rooms.” Instructor Akiva barked from where she stood in the doorway. The first-year students resembled beetles as they scattered, scurrying back to their individual rooms.


	11. Hard Answers Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Zuk's death Rathe witnesses something amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always huge thanks to my betas!

‘The one good thing about this building being so full of holes is how quickly it airs out.’ Rathe thought as he finished healing.

He did not know how long the task had taken, but it was long enough for the foul stench emanating from the hallway to fade to a bearable level of smell. The same could not be said for the smell emanating from Rathe’s mouth. Although he’d done his best to remove the taste and smell of vomit, it continued to linger. What he really needed was a mouthful of water to clean his mouth out, this, of course, meant that he needed to make a detour to the well he had spied on the opposite side of the Instructor’s dormitory during one of his nightly trips to the ration storage. While Rathe had become more comfortable about sneaking into a building right next to the instructor’s dorm, the idea of going to the well filled him with grave fear as there would be no place for him to hide. And yet, as the taste in his mouth grew fouler, as it grew stale, Rathe realized that if he did not, he would find it difficult to get a restful sleep.

Carefully making his way through his makeshift tunnel, Rathe quickly scurried towards the ration storage. He figured that it would be safer to snag a ration bar or two before making his way towards the well, that way if he were spotted and managed to escape back to the dormitory he could at least have something to show for his efforts. Having encountered no trouble as he entered and then exited the storage building, Rathe steeled his nerve and began making his way along the backside of the dormitory for the instructors. Heart pounding in his ears, the red-skinned boy found himself jumping at every shadow and noise, eventually coming to lying flat on his belly and crawling to make it nearly impossible for anyone to see him at a glance. As he came within a foot of the well, he carefully poked his head around the corner of the building only to immediately duck back seconds later when the sound of a door banging open rang out.

“Quit whining Uthyn.” The familiar voice of Instructor Akiva rang out, her words filled to the brim with anger and annoyance.

Scarcely daring to breathe Rathe lay as still as possible praying to the Emperor that she wasn’t coming his way.

“I’m not whining!” The large instructor whined back. “I merely don’t understand why I am the one who has to transport the remains back.”

“Because if I remember correctly, you have volunteered to do it since you started here.” Instructor Trevin replied dryly, his voice moving passed Rathe’s location.

From beyond the building on the other side of the gap, Rathe could hear the crunching of Instructor Akiva and Trevin’s boots upon the sand. Judging by the location of the sounds, he guessed that they were headed towards the small landing pad he remembered arriving on. Carefully, Rathe peered around the corner, making absolutely sure nothing but his eyes were poking out. The moonlight was bright enough that he could see Uthyn carrying a medium sized crate, one very similar to the one Rathe remembers his brother’s remains being sent in, as he passed. A sneer of cruel amusement pulled at Rathe’s mouth as he watched the overweight instructor struggle with his burden.

“Yes, well I have recently come to the realization that this facility needs more of my attention.” Uthyn struggled to get out, his words broken up as he gasped and panted from the strain.

As Uthyn’s large rear end moved out of sight, Rathe made a gamble and scurried to the next building. He pressed himself up against the corner, the jagged and rough edges of the brick digging into his back, just in time to hear Instructor Akiva let out a snort.

“More like you are afraid the Dresal boy will perish at the hands of Kasal the moment the ship leaves.”

Rathe’s curiosity peaked as he heard himself referenced. Once again he peered out from his hiding place to get a look at what was going on, sliding down into a crouch as he poked his head around the corner. Standing at the base of the ramp leading to the small landing pad, Instructor Akiva stood an amused look on her face. Slightly further up the ramp from her, stood Instructor Trevin a bored look on his face as he looked up at the stars, waiting for their larger peer to join them.

“Do you disapprove of my methods?” Rathe could picture the sneer upon Uthyn’s face as he spoke, disdain dripping from his words.

“Not at all, I am merely amused by the fact that the arrival of the first and second Dresal children has caused a sudden interest in you doing your job.”

“Outside of anything that involves leaving the planet anyway,” Instructor Trevin interjected. Turning his gaze away from the stars towards the direction Akiva was facing. “Though one could say; only helping out during the arena fights is not helping out at all.”

A growl of anger could be heard as the crate Uthyn carried went flying passed, crashing into the sand just beyond the building Rathe was hiding behind. Moments later the large human came into view, stepping up to the crate he’d presumably just thrown, chest heaving as he panted. Thanks to the bright moonlight, Rathe could see the normally pale human’s face had turned a shade of deep red, due to a combination of both anger and exhaustion.

“Shove off.” Uthyn snarled, openly glaring at both Instructor Akiva and Trevin “I highly doubt that this was where either of you had expected to end up.” His mouth screwed up into a cruel smirk.

“Well, at the very least not you, Trevin,” He turned fully towards the sole female instructor. “Becoming an Instructor was the best you could have hoped for. “Slave.”

The breath left Rathe’s body as he felt anger coming from the Twi’lek woman in waves, her hand straying towards the lightsaber on her belt. Every fiber of Rathe’s being begged for her to cut his tormentor down, but like with most things Rathe found himself disappointed as Instructor Trevin halted her with a hand on her wrist.

“No, Akiva.” He said sternly, but, to Rathe’s surprise, gently as well.

A look passed between the two, before Instructor Akiva finally relinquished her hold on the weapon, leaving it where it rested on her hip despite the visible tension in her body.

“Perhaps it would be best if you got a move on.” The red-headed man said, the chill in his voice making Rathe shiver.

The larger human lets out a snort but held his tongue as he bent to gather the crate once more. Silence enveloped the compound as three sets of eyes watched Uthyn put the crate aboard the small shuttle and moved to the cockpit. As the ship’s engines came online, Rathe realized that this was the perfect opportunity for him to sneak to the well. Staying on hands and knees, the Sith boy quickly made his way over to the well, only moving to a standing position when he made sure Instructors Akiva and Trevin were solely focused on Uthyn. Rathe began quickly turning the crank that lowered the bucket used to retrieve water, using the noise the ship was making to cover up the noise he was making. By the time the ship started taking off, the now filled bucket was making its way up and Rathe was reminded of how precarious of a position he had been placed in. Virtually standing out in the open if he darted off to avoid being seen the bucket would fall, attracting the attention of the two adults he was hiding from. Redoubling his efforts, Rathe turned the crank as fast as he could, wincing as the movement caused an increase in noise. The moment Rathe’s hands touched the bucket, was the moment Uthyn’s ship left the atmosphere, and the two remaining instructors turned back towards the camp. As he maneuvered the bucket to rest on top of the wellhead, Instructor Trevin’s head seemed to swivel around towards him. Scarcely waiting to make sure the bucket would stay, Rathe ducked down, pressing himself flat against the well’s wall, making himself as small as possible.

His heart sounded so loudly in his ears, the noise nearly covered up the sound of the instructors’ boots hitting the ramp as they descended. He prayed to the Emperor that it had just been his imagination and Instructor Trevin had _not_ been looking in his direction, because if he had been, there was enough moonlight for him to clearly be seen. As the sound of boots hitting metal transformed into boots hitting the sand, the Sith boy began eyeing the building next to him. He knew he could dart behind it no problem, but the question was; which building should he run towards? If he should even move from his current hiding place at all. He could poke his head out to see where the instructors were, from the sounds of their boots and the soft whispers; he had a good idea of where they were. But, if those whispers were Instructor Trevin letting his more volatile counterpart know he’d seen someone by the well, then Rathe poking his head out would be the worst move he could make.

“You think I don’t know that!?”

The sudden exclamation from Instructor Akiva had Rathe nearly have a heart attack. For a moment, the Sith boy thought she might have been referring to him hiding behind the well.

“You think I don’t know that he was baiting me?”

Rathe’s entire body sagged with relief as he realized she was merely talking about the incident with Uthyn moments before.

“All I was saying was that-”

“I know exactly what you were trying to say!” Instructor Akiva interrupted her rage a nearly tangible thing. Though Rathe thought he also detected a sliver of hurt, but he was sure he was just imagining things. “You both still think of me as being less! I have been here a decade, longer than either of you and yet both of you think you’re better than me because of what I used to be.” She spat.

“That is not true, and you know it.” Rathe was amazed at how calm the other instructor continued to sound.

“Yes, it is! Uthyn thinks it an insult to be lumped in with someone who he thinks should be servicing men like him in a Cantina!”

Rathe’s face flushed to a darker shade of red at the graphic depiction.

“And you stopped me earlier because you think he would have beaten me! Uthyn! A man, who you will recall is barely a step above being lame!”

There was a metallic hiss and the training yard began filling with the sound of a dull hum. Casting sense aside, Rathe cautiously peered over the top of the well. Amber-yellow eyes widened as he realized she had unsheathed her lightsaber, the blade washing both instructors in red light. Though he’d seen lightsabers attached to both Instructor Trevin and Akiva’s hips, and his father’s back home, he’d never seen one turned on before.

“I will show you just how wrong you are,” she hissed. Her upper lip curled back in a snarl.

“You cannot be seri-” Instructor Trevin was interrupted when a lunge from the Twi’lek woman forced him to quickly dodge to the side. “Very well then,” The red light in the courtyard increased as a second lightsaber was unsheathed.

Rathe watched with baited breath as the two instructors circled each other, the air becoming charged as he waited for one of them to make the first move. Predictably, it was Instructor Akiva who made the first move, lunging once more at her opponent. This time, however, Trevin did not move out of the way. Instead, he blocked her blade with his own lightsaber, causing Rathe to flinch at the large number of sparks that appeared when the blades struck one another. The red-headed man was forced to jump backwards a moment later, when Akiva swung at him with a second lightsaber, one that had previously gone unnoticed by Rathe.

The red skinned boy’s fingers tightened their grip on the edge of the well as he stared in wonder at the Twi’lek woman. He had certainly heard it was possible for Sith to wield two lightsabers at once, but he had never seen it with his own eyes before. His own father only wielded a single lightsaber and so had the few Sith Lords his family was allied with. Rathe found himself moving around the side of the well to get a closer look at the dual blades, far more interested in seeing how well one could fight with two lightsabers than concerned about being seen.

The moment Trevin’s feet hit the sand, he lunged towards Akiva not giving her a chance to attack again, forcing her back with a flurry of strikes so fast the Twi’lek woman had to use both blades to defend. The attack was halted when she lowered her blades, opened her mouth, and let out a scream that physically pushed the redheaded man backwards. Had his eyes not already been as wide as they could possibly be, Rathe’s eyes would have widened in amazement at what he had just witnessed. Not only had the yell manifested itself as a physical force, but he had been able to _feel_ it when she’d begun to create it within her throat. At least that’s what Rathe thought the faint sensation, similar to water going down a drain, he’d felt on the edge of his mind had been. He desperately wanted to understand how she had been able to perform the ability and why he had been able to feel it. But as the Twi’lek woman took advantage of Trevin being off balance by the scream, he decided to ponder over it at a later date.

Jumping forward, the purple-skinned woman came at the man with both blades raised. Sparks flew once more as the blade in her right hand connected with his, and Trevin was forced to roll to the side as she spun, keeping their blades crossed, and brought her second lightsaber around. From his kneeling position on the ground, Trevin lashed out with a kick, his boot connecting with the side of her knee. Shifting so he was in a crouched position, the redheaded man pulled back the hand not holding a lightsaber, balled it into a fist and brought it down to the ground. Though Trevin remained firmly on the ground, Akiva was thrown backwards, landing flat on her back a few feet from where she’d been standing. Once again, Rathe found himself gaping in wonder at both being able to feel a strong pulse of energy radiating from his instructor and at the display of ability. Not only had Akiva been blown backwards, but there was a slight crater about five meters wide surrounding Trevin.

For a brief moment, Rathe wondered if any of the other students were watching the fight. At the very least he knew some of them could _hear_ it going on. He wondered if any of them were also realizing just how little they knew. Even Kasal, whom everyone considered to be the best student here, paled in comparison to the skill the two instructors were displaying. All of his thoughts, aside from a single ‘HOLY SHIT!’ were erased as Trevin grasped his blade with both hands and jumped, somehow covering the distance between himself and the prone woman in the blink of an eye. Akiva must have sensed the man appearing above her because she was somehow able to bring her left blade up in time to block his attack. She let out a growl of pure rage as she pushed back, and for a moment, Rathe was confused as, unlike last time her growl did not manifest into an attack. Instead, a red flame like aura began to engulf her. At first, Rathe actually thought it was an aura of flames, but when neither instructor, though specifically Trevin, did not react in pain to it, Rathe realized it only _looked_ like flames.

When the red aura fully engulfed her, Akiva did something that truly baffled Rathe, she deactivated her lightsaber. It _seemed_ to pay off as it threw Trevin off balance and allowed her to strike him in the abdomen with both blades, after reigniting the one she’d just turned off. But, she also took a nasty hit to her shoulder, producing the foul smell of burnt flesh that Rathe could easily smell from his position. Two similar marks should have appeared on Trevin’s abdomen, but the damage to both blows was reduced by the shield that flashed briefly into existence upon each hit. Yet, the strikes did manage to throw the human over Akiva’s head onto the ground behind her, his hair brushing against her lekku’s as he landed flat on his back. Nearly as one, the two instructors flipped up onto their feet and turned to face on another.

“Akiva,” Trevin began an almost pleading note entering his voice as he lowered his lightsaber fractionally.

Whatever else he might have said was cut off when the Twi’lek woman attacked him once more. The red aura around her turned a dark purple edging on black as she lashed out with both blades. Despite the rapidly increasing speed of her attacks, Trevin was able to block most, his shield flashing occasionally when a blow made its way past his defense. Eventually, the shield reached its limit for damage absorption and one of Akiva’s blades made contact with Trevin’s arms, drawing a groan of pain out of the stoic man. The noise seemed to be as off-putting for the purple-skinned woman as it was for Rathe, because the blade in her left hand, which would have connected with his neck, froze in midair. Seizing on the opportunity given to him, Trevin knocked the frozen blade from her hand, sending it flying into the courtyard. Rathe squeaked faintly, and moved back into the shadow of the well as the blade, thankfully extinguished, flew towards him.

The saber base bounced, flipping end over end on the sandy ground, coming to lie halfway between Rathe and the two instructors. But the lost lightsaber did little to keep the Pureblood boy’s attention as Akiva rewarded Trevin for the loss of her weapon by knocking his own out of his hand and holding her remaining blade against his throat.

“Satisfied?” The man with dual-colored eyes asked his tone strangely calm for someone who was being held at sword point.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah,” She turned off her blade, leaving the yard solely lit by moonlight once more. “Sorry.” The word was uttered so softly, Rathe thought it might have been a trick of the wind.

“Do not worry about it.” Instructor Trevin shrugged faintly. “Uthyn gets under my skin too.” He continued as he moved to retrieve his lightsaber.

Rathe’s eyes widened when, upon moving closer to Instructor Akiva, the human man placed his hand on her shoulder. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when she didn’t immediately shrug off the hand. In fact, she seemed to lean _into_ the touch, presumably deriving comfort from it. “Just remember, we are on the same side.”

‘I must be hallucinating.’ Rathe thought as his eyes told him that a smile had appeared on the Twi’lek woman’s face. There was no way there was a smile on the face of the woman he had only seen sneer or smirk. No, it had to have been a hallucination or a trick of the light.

“I remember.” She said, while definitely not smiling. The world righted itself some, as she finally shrugged Instructor Trevin’s hand off, though she did whisper something into his ear before walking away, towards the instructor’s dormitory with the man following behind.

Rathe flinched as she held her hand aloft, directed towards his direction. He half expected to be pulled from his hiding place, or for him to be blasted with some other kind of attack. Instead, the lightsaber lying on the ground lifted up off the ground and returned to its owner’s hand. The moment he heard the door open and close, Rathe stood, knees, and legs stiff from being in a kneeling position for so long. His heart was still pounding in his chest, both from the fear of being caught and the excitement of having watched two actual Sith in action.

Hands shaking, he plunged them into the water-filled bucket, bringing a handful of water up to his lips. Swishing the cool liquid around for a moment, Rathe turned to the side and spit. Instantly, the taste of vomit in his mouth was reduced, and after a few more mouthfuls it was completely gone. With his mouth now cleaned out, Rathe rewarded himself for not getting himself caught, by greedily drinking mouthful after mouthful of water. Pulling out the ration bar from earlier, Rathe began eating as he made his way back to his room. Belly properly full for the first time in weeks, the Sith boy fell asleep the moment his body touched the thin mattress that made up his bed.

Hours later, when he was awoken by Instructor Trevin’s sonic whistle, Rathe found himself examining the two instructors for any signs of the fight from the previous night. But, all of the injuries the two had sustained were gone. Slightly disappointed, Rathe had wanted to see the injuries up close in the sunlight; the red-skinned boy turned his attention to that day’s sparring session. Rathe felt nearly giddy at the thought of what might happen during that evening’s fights as without Uthyn, he might not be paired up with Kasal. His hopes were dashed when shortly after the start of their physical exercises; Rathe spied the small shuttle from the night before in the sky. He felt a vague sense of annoyance at having to go through his daily routine yet again, but it was quelled as Rathe noted the same look on Instructor Akiva’s face.


	12. Sandstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Rathe thought he had Dromund Fels figured out the planet throws him for a loop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to my betas for doing their thing.

Weeks bled into months that would have been repetitive and monotonous had they not been punctured by student deaths. A student succumbing to dehydration here. A lung or heart being punctured by a broken rib there. A fist or boot striking the trachea there. And so on, until even the sight of a dead student had started to become commonplace. Eventually, the only excitement these deaths brought for Rathe were the possibility of Uthyn remaining off-world just long enough for a change to be made to Rathe’s daily routine. Each and every single time, his hopes were dashed and the Sith boy found himself once again taking a beating at the hands of Kasal.

Rathe scowled in irritation at the thought of fighting Kasal yet again, using his thumb to push the sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes. After spending approximately two months at the facility, the deaths made it easier to keep track of time, the Sith boy had become used to the feeling of sweat running into his eyes. Recently, however, he had begun to have his hair fall into his eyes. What had once been neatly cropped black hair had turned into shaggy matted hair that was just long enough to fall into amber eyes but not long enough to be pushed back behind his ears. Initially, when he had arrived, Rathe had found it strange that all of the older students had been sporting longish hair. Now he was curious as to how they could have had long hair minus the mats everyone was now sporting. He was pulled from his thoughts as the same strands of hair he’d just moved, fell back into his eyes, this time actually entering Rathe’s eyes causing an intense stinging pain that brought tears to the eye.

“Flacking hell,” he hissed, screwing the eye shut.

As the pain began to subside, he became aware of snickering coming from his left. Rathe whipped his head to the side, glaring irritably at the source, though the effect was lost due to one eye being tightly closed and the other watery with unshed tears.

Seki, who because of her Rattataki heritage was the _only_ student who lacked hair, merely smiled back, mirth clear on her face. “Having difficulties?”

Rathe’s only reply was to blow his hair out of his face.

As the physical exercise was called to an end and the students lined up, Rathe found himself, yet again, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Letting out a sigh of exasperation, the Sith Pureblood took a moment to enough the slight breeze as he tried to push the annoyance from his mind.

’ _Wait, breeze?’_

Eyes that had unconsciously closed in pleasure, snapped open in shock. Since the day he had arrived, the air had been incredibly still. Making the high temperature near unbearable as there was nothing to alleviate the heat. Having become used to things working a certain way here on Dromund Fels, Rathe was cautiously optimistic that this was a good change. By the time the last student had received their glass of water, the breeze was strong enough to ruffle the Instructor’s shirts.

During the sparring matches, Rathe found himself distracted by trying to figure out what the older students were doing. The moment they had entered the building, all of the older students, had begun tearing off the lower portion of their shirts creating makeshift bandanas out of them that covered their noses and mouths. The ones who had shirts too ratty or ragged to form a decent bandana rolled their shirts up onto their shoulders forming a thick scarf like object that covered their neck and lower half of their faces. Kasal happened to be among the former group, tearing almost the bottom quarter of his shirt off, revealing the lower half of his abdomen. Two minutes later, Rathe’s knuckles barely grazed the dark skin now bared for all to see. Though he had brushed his knuckles against Kasal’s clothing in previous fights when attempting a punch, being able to _feel_ his knuckles graze the other boy’s skin was ten times as satisfying. In response, Rathe had his face slammed into the hard stone floor, causing his teeth to go crashing into his tongue and his nose to be smashed against his face.

By the time the fights had ended Rathe had almost completely forgotten about the strange behavior of the older students. Relegating the strange happening to the back of his mind with the thought that the answer would be revealed to him eventually, Rathe turned his focus towards setting and healing his nose and fixing the damage done to his tongue by his teeth. Despite the injuries to his tongue being relatively minor, a series of imprints that matched his teeth, Rathe found himself having to put a decent amount of effort towards the act. It took him a number of minutes to realize that he couldn’t heal his tongue and remove the liquid causing his tongue to swell at the same time, and another few to realize he needed to first remove fluid from an area and then use his burgeoning abilities to heal that exact same spot. The process took long enough that by the time Rathe was able to solely focus on his nose, the losing students were lining up beside Instructor Trevin. So distracted by the act of setting his nose was he that Rathe failed to notice the Zabrak girl in front of him had come to a complete stop until he ran into her.

“Hey!” Rathe exclaimed at the exact same time the girl whirled around and snarled. “Watch it!”

The two children glared at one another until a grunt of effort from the front of the room caused them to turn away. At the front of the line stood Instructor Trevin, his shoulder pressed against the door as he attempted to push it open. After a moment of struggle, the slim man stepped away, gesturing for the children right behind him to move away. Once he had enough room to maneuver, Instructor Trevin moved his right foot back, bending both knees slightly and drawing his hands to his abdomen as he did. Like when he witnessed the clash between the Twi’lek woman and slim human, Rathe could feel a faint pull coming from Instructor Trevin. The Pureblood boy watched with baited breath, excited to see the use of the force up close and personal, as the man brought his hands forward.

At first, Rathe felt disappointed when nothing immediately happened, but then he noticed sand had begun blowing through the small opening between the two metal doors. Sand coming into the arena was not an unusual occurrence, after all, the children tracked a decent amount in daily. What _was_ unusual; however, was how much was coming through the crack, and the force behind it. Instructor Trevin performed the maneuver once again and the amount of sand blowing around the room increased until Rathe was forced to hold a hand in front of his face to keep sand from his eyes. All around him, the Pureblood boy could hear students crying out or cursing as sand found their eyes. He even heard some shouting for the door to be closed. If he had thought the action worth the effort, Rathe might have joined in, but he knew the Instructors would only ignore them.

Glancing at Saril and Seki, Rathe nodded towards the fighting area and as one the three stepped out of line and moved towards the central area. Remembering what the older students had done Rathe tore off the lower portion of his shirt too and tied around his head as he walked.

“The wind from earlier?” He asked, voice slightly muffled by the fabric covering it.

“Turned into a sandstorm while we were in here,” Saril confirmed with a nod.

Looking around, Rathe could see that he was not the only one to have the idea of moving away from the door. Most of the older students appeared to have already moved away, while his fellow first years were slowly coming to the same realization. Instructor Trevin remained in front of the door, steadily pushing it open. The Twi’lek instructor had moved to stand by him moments ago. Uthyn, Rathe noted with a disgusted wrinkling of his nose, was all the way at the back of the building, seemingly content to do nothing.

“How can he stand it?” Seki asked, drawing Rathe’s attention back to the front of the building. “Getting hit with all that sand?”

“It's because he’s not,” The Pureblood boy replied earning raised eyebrows from both of his allies. “The sand. It’s not hitting him.”

“I didn’t see him activate a shield,” the Rattataki girl said with a confused frown.

“He is not using his shield,” the Sith boy argued with a shake of his head. “Instructor Akiva’s keeping him from getting hit.”

Rathe received two blank looks of confusion, or at least he thought Saril was looking at him in confusion. With his mouth covered up, the Chiss boy was even harder to read than usual, and Rathe quickly found himself becoming unnerved by the solid red eyes upon him.

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel it,” He continued on, feeling just as confused as the looks he was receiving. “The barrier around them.”

From the moment she had stepped up beside her fellow instructor, Rathe had been able to feel something like a faint tickle on the edge of his awareness. As the opening had grown wider, letting more wind and sand into the building, the feeling had grown until he could feel a more solid, but still faint, sensation. The Pureblood boy equated it to hearing a conversation two rooms away, he could hear enough to know there was a conversation going on but he couldn’t hear what was being said.

“She placed it around them the moment she stepped up beside him.” Rathe felt an overwhelming urge to just start babbling in an attempt to explain himself.

“The sand is going around them,” Saril said suddenly.

Both Rathe and Seki turned to look at the two instructors. Even from this distance, the red-skinned boy could see a ring of empty space surrounding the two instructors, even as the area around the two quickly filled up with sand. For the first time since he had started speaking, Rathe felt like he was not speaking a foreign language. He could actually point to physical proof of what he had been talking about.

All conversation was cut off when the door hinges let out a particularly loud groan of protest and suddenly, the room was filled with sand and wind, obscuring Rathe’s vision. Thankfully he had already put the makeshift bandana over his nose and mouth. Not so thankfully, Rathe did not have anything to protect his eyes from the tiny grains of sand now flying through the air. Placing his hand in front of his face provided a partial solution, though the sand was easily able to go around his fingers. Even turning his back to the door proved to be a futile attempt as the wind seemed to bounce off the back wall and come back at him. As the sand buffeted him, Rathe could not help but wonder; why? Why, if the storm was so powerful, had Instructor Trevin worked so hard to get them out of the building? Couldn’t they have just stayed in the arena building?

“The storm will be over soon.” Instructor Akiva called as if answering Rathe’s questions. Her voice heard plainly over the howling on the wind and curses from the students. “Head to your rooms now.”

Knowing there was no way of arguing with the Twi’lek instructor, Rathe began moving towards the front of the building. Though it was difficult to see more than a foot in front of him, the Pureblood boy could still feel the sensation from earlier and began moving towards it. Suddenly remembering he was not alone, and that it would be bad form to leave his allies behind, Rathe reached out grabbing onto Saril and Seki. Saril he held onto particularly hard, as Rathe suspected the sand hurt the Chiss boy’s eyes twice as much as it hurt his own.

The three children did not speak as they moved, they merely moved forward as one, with the other two trusting Rathe knew where he was going. Occasionally, they would bump into someone who would immediately latch onto the person they had bumped into and follow them. More than once Rathe thought about attempting to create a shield similar to the one Akiva had made but immediately dismissed the idea as he still needed to be stationary when concentrating on healing himself. Plus, he did not know how to manifest the force as a physical object.

After minutes of following the sensation in his head, one which Rathe privately worried was an illusion, the Pureblood boy suddenly found himself freed of the sand. Blinking in shock, and because there was still a fair amount of sand in his eyes, Rathe found himself meeting the gazes of Instructor’s Trevin and Akiva. Not only had he succeeded in leading his group that now consisted of six children to the door but he had guided them into the barrier the Twi’lek woman had created. Though his vision was still slightly obscured, the Pureblood boy thought both looked amused and a little bit impressed.

“Get out.”

The two words were all the warning the purple-skinned woman gave as suddenly Rathe, and the five children with him were surrounded by sand once more. Through the sand, Rathe could see the instructors were still sand free, though the area around them that was also free of sand was now much smaller. Not even waiting to hear either adult say anything, Rathe grabbed onto Saril and Seki, trusting the other three would grab on as well, and moved around the two instructors.

Rathe faltered once he reached the doorway. Getting to the doors had been one thing, but getting to the dorms was an entirely different thing altogether. No longer could he use the feeling drawing him towards the instructors as an anchor, not only would that keep them where they stood, but could easily lead him astray if Instructors Akiva and Trevin went anywhere within the compound.

As if sensing Rathe’s doubt, Saril leaned in and whispered. “You know the compound better than any of us.”

Amber yellow eyes widened in shock as Rathe turned to stare at the larger boy. This was the first time either Saril or Seki had acknowledged knowing he snuck out at night. Rathe suspected that nearly everyone knew he stole rations at this point but he had not wanted to admit it to himself. A part of him felt that if it went unacknowledged, then he would not have to face the idea of the instructors, especially Uthyn, knowing he got his rations through other means than the fights. As of yet, the storage bins had not been moved, but Rathe knew it was only a matter of time before he got caught in the act or they were moved.

“Form a line.” He said, trying to hide his nerves behind a mask of confidence. “Hold on tightly to each other’s hands.” Rathe continued letting go of Saril’s hand.

The Chiss boy and Seki immediately linked hands and the three other students maneuvered themselves so they were behind Saril. Hoping he was not making a huge mistake, Rathe led them out of the building. If he had thought seeing was difficult inside the well-lit building, out in the dark of night, seeing was practically impossible. Reaching out with his free hand, Rathe groped blindly for a few seconds before his hand came into contact with the outside wall of the arena. Slowly he led them along, ignoring the stinging and itching sensation coming from every bit of skin that was exposed. Normally, it was a five-minute walk from the arena to the dorm, but it took three times as long for Rathe to reach the end of the wall.

“You at the end of the line!” He shouted, hoping his voice was heard over the sound of the wind. “Keep your hand on the wall to your left until I tell you to! Got it?”

“Got it!” Came the gruff reply.

Taking that to mean his order had been followed, Rathe moved away from the wall carefully searching for the building he knew to be only feet away. If he could find that building, Rathe knew all he would need to do would be to continue on a few more feet, turn to his right and the dorm would be right there.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” A voice yelled from the back of the line after a few agonizing moments of Rathe blindly searching for the next building.

Thankfully the voice was not that of the person at the end of the line. Unfortunately, this new person spoke up once more when Rathe did not answer.

“You don’t do you!? I’d be better off looking by myself!”

“Don’t leave this line!” Rathe snarled, whipping around to face the line. “The only way we can make sure all of us get back to the dorm and **not** accidentally find ourselves leaving the compound is if we stick together.”

The Pureblood’s annoyance doubled as he realized he was acting more like a Jedi than a Sith, but in this moment they needed to stick together if only so they could make it out of this in one piece. Turning back to the task at hand Rathe resumed his search. Finally, after feeling like he was just flailing around, his hand smacked into the corner he had been looking for.

“Let go!” He called out, keeping his hand firmly on the new wall.

Trusting the person at the end had heeded his call, Rathe continued on, mentally keeping track of how far along he had gone. After he had walked about three feet, the Sith boy turned to his right and took two steps forward, promptly kicking a solid wall when he attempted a third. Stifling a cry of pain, Rathe guided the five students behind him along this wall, until his hand came into contact with a wooden object. He did not know why or how, but for some reason, the flimsy-looking wooden door at the entrance to their dormitory was withstanding the high winds and sand.

“Here!” He yelled out.

Immediately, Saril, Seki, and the three other students crowded around him as he pushed the door open and all six rushed into the crumbling building, closing the door behind them.

“Well, at least there’s less sand.” One of the students aside from Saril or Seki called out from the pitch black darkness of the hallway.

Normally, the cracks in the ceiling and walls provided sources of light the moon could shine through. Now, the same ones that provided light allowed sand to be blown into the dormitory. A sudden metallic hum and bright light appearing caused Rathe to flinch. Blinking the spots from his eyes, Rathe, once again, found himself staring at instructors Akiva and Trevin, both holding a lightsaber aloft.

“You took your time.”

Unable to help himself, Rathe gaped in shock at the two adults. What were they doing here? More importantly, how had they gotten here ahead of his group? He knew it had taken them far longer to reach the dormitory than it normally would have, but it couldn’t have taken them _that_ long, could it?

Realizing he was staring at them with his mouth wide open, Rathe closed his mouth with an audible clack of teeth. Beyond the two instructors, who looked a bit too amused for Rathe’s liking, the red-skinned boy could see a group of students. By his estimation, they only numbered a quarter of the total number of students. Most of whom were second years or older. In fact, the only first-year students were himself, Saril, Seki and... remembering the three were not alone, Rathe glanced to the side. Standing next to Seki were a yellow-skinned Zabrak and a tanned human female. Both he recognized as fellow first years, but he could not remember anything about them or the fights they had been in. The only things he knew were, they had survived this long, the Zabrak was slightly taller than Rathe, and the human was the exact same height. Amber-yellow eyes widened in shock as he turned towards Saril and realized the boy standing behind him was a second-year orange-skinned Pureblood. Even with his face half covered Rathe was easily able to recognize the face of Kasal’s ally; Mathieu Chi'thiac. The other Pureblood seemed oblivious of Rathe staring at him, nonchalantly removing his temporary face mask.

“I’m almost impressed.” Instructor Akiva’s voice cut through the moment of silence. Bringing Rathe’s attention back to the two people wielding lightsabers. “You five are the first, first years to arrive.”

“And you did it in half the time it normally takes students the first time they’re in a storm." Instructor Trevin added.

The missing piece of the mystery surrounding everything that had happened today fell into place in Rathe’s mind. Storms like the one raging outside were not uncommon. This explained why the older students had begun preparing for the storm at the first signs. Rathe also suspected that the teachers used these storms to test the student's ability to adapt and self-sufficient in the face of losing most of their senses. If true, it explained why the Instructors had forced the students out into the heart of the storm.

“Now, move out of the way.” Instructor Akiva said, directing them further down the hall with her chin.

Rathe moved to follow the instruction, only to freeze mid-step when a hand touched his shoulder. Turning, he found himself face to face with Mathieu as the other four moved passed them. Every muscle in his body tensed, expecting the worst from an ally of Kasal.

“Thanks.”

Had he not already been frozen, Rathe would have come to a complete halt as he recognized Mathieu’s voice as the same one as the boy at the end of the line. Instead, he merely stared at the orange-skinned boy as he passed by.

Shaking his head, Rathe pulled himself from his stupor and made his way to his room. Much like out in the hall, the cracked walls and ceiling of his room blocked most of the wind and sand. However, enough was able to get through that Rathe was forced to use both his flimsy mattress and ratty blanket to cover himself. Now, hidden beneath the small barrier and free from the continuous attack of sand, he was suddenly bombarded by a stinging sensation all over his body that felt like hundreds of bees stinging him. Fearing that someone might have done something to his bed, the red-skinned boy leaped up and dashed to the door. Normally, the moonlight would have been bright enough for him to see inside his room. But with the storm raging outside, the only source of light he would have access to was from the instructor’s lightsabers. Opening the door, Rathe emerged back into the hall, eyes darting from his hands to his bare torso looking for what might have been causing the stinging, burning, sensation. But he could not see anything except his own skin. Bringing his hands up to his face, he noticed his skin was redder than normal.

‘ _Actually_.’

Rathe blinked in surprise as he realized small droplets of blood welling up on the ‘surface’ of his skin. He had been so distracted by trying to get himself and the other four students back to the dormitory that Rathe had not noticed the sandstorm had actually removed the first and possibly second layers of skin. The stinging sensation he felt had not been beetles or any other bugs on his bed like Rathe had thought. But, instead, it was his mattress and blankets touching the tender skin that had caused it. Retreating into his room, the Sith boy returned to his place amongst his discarded blanket and mattress. Doing his best to block out the bits of sand that blew into his room, he closed his amber colored eyes and began healing his damaged skin. Strangely, he found the process a bit more difficult than when he healed the blisters on his hands and feet. He really should not have been so surprised as the area he needed to heal was so large. But, Rathe had not thought he would need to expend so much concentration on making sure the skin healed evenly rather than the small uneven patches he was initially able to do. Eventually, the stinging sensation disappeared and Rathe’s fingers no longer smeared blood along his body as they moved along his torso, arms, and face. Feeling wearier than he had in a long time, Rathe quickly fell asleep.


End file.
